


Embracing Sin

by TiBun, Xenobia



Series: Death's Doll [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bizarre Dolls, Crossdressing Kink, Drama, Ideologically Sensitive, Lemons, M/M, Post traumatic, Religious Conflict, Romance, Sexual Roleplay, Supernatural Elements, Top Undertaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-01-20 15:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 110,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/pseuds/TiBun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobia/pseuds/Xenobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Undertaker and Jase settle down and have their lives together to look forward to without worry of having to pick up and run at any moment, Heaven makes an attack on Paris, aimed to cleans the city of sin and abominations...but what is their true target?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: We do not own any recognizable characters and only explore the possibilities.
> 
> OC Jase Dubois Copyrighted to TiBun.

****

_CoverArt by[Aissrikawaii](http://aissrikawaii.deviantart.com/)_

 

Gold-sandaled feet touched down lightly on the cool, pearlescent tiles of the heavenly temple aria. Wings of ivory white folded in close to the slender body they were attached to, and eyes of a golden hue looked forward through the gilded archways of a similar color. The soft, white-golden light shining in through the stained glass windows was tinted with the multi-colored mosaics, creating a rainbow of hues on the luminescent floors. Pale hair of silvery-white fell long down the back of the being as it passed through the arches, into the round, dome-ceiling chamber of the council. The wings receded into the body as the angel—wearing a female form today—came before the gathering of her brethren and gave solemn greeting.

"There has been an incident," she explained when they stood silently, questioningly before her. "An earthly being destined to die has been forced into an unnatural state of a most...unwholesome nature."

"Please explain," requested a tall male with red-gold, wavy hair and blue eyes.

The newcomer inclined her head with the grace of a swan. "As you wish. The divine records list one Jase Dubois as deceased; an unfortunate casualty in our constant struggle against Lucifer's minions. He was a godly man; one that our kind hold in high esteem for mortals. Unfortunately, he was tainted by a demon when the creature sought out sanctuary in his chapel. Those who were hunting this demon—my underlings—found the priest tainted when they arrived. The demon had escaped; but not before she tainted this young priest. My host chose to purify the mortal to rid him of the taint, and the regrettable circumstance of that would have meant death for him, but he would have been pure."

She paced the chamber, her ethereal features troubled. "However, something occurred that none of them could have foreseen. It has been discovered that this mortal's soul was not consumed by the holy fire, as expected. He was preserved...brought back from the brink of death. That alone is an abomination, as you all know, but in addition to this un-naturally preserved life, he apparently retained the arch-fire within him."

There were murmurs of discontent and concern, and the head councilor held up his hand for silence. "Are you telling us that a mortal is wandering the earthen realms with angelic arch-fire at his disposal, Illaria?"

She bowed her head. "Not entirely. This man...this priest...he is more than a common mortal, now. As I said, he was altered by one who knows the dark secrets of necromancy. He is neither living nor dead, divine nor demonic. He is...an abomination."

"No humans have possessed the powers of true necromancy for hundreds of years," scoffed a female. "How could this be possible?"

The messenger shook her shining head. "The one responsible for this is no human. He is a divine being; a reaper."

The head of the council tensed. "A reaper? Have you identified him?"

She nodded. "I have. He is no common reaper, Justice. He was the very first."

The male frowned, his blue gaze going shadowed. "Death himself, then."

"Just so." She bowed before the gathering. "What would you have me do to rectify this?"

"We have an arrangement with the Grim Reapers," reminded a male in the gathering. "And though Death is retired, any hostility against him would likely provoke an equal reaction with Dispatch."

"He has broken both Divine and Natural laws," said the council head firmly, "and from what I understand, he is under close watch by his previous organization as well. Now we know why."

He tapped his fingertips against the column he stood next to. "Illaria, Death has broken mandates laid down by Heaven since mankind was new. This priest...whatever he may be now...must be retained and brought to us. Deal with the reaper as necessary to ensure the abomination's capture, but avoid destroying either of them, if possible. I am sure I needn't remind you of how dangerous this Shinigami in particular can be."

"Of course," she agreed. "As the council commands."

* * *

 

It was a cool fall evening. The trees ablaze with reds and yellows upon the once green leaves. The sun was on it's descent beyond the horizon of the French countryside; shedding hued rays of light over the land.

A short brunet with a long ponytail pulled back with a blue ribbon, his eyes hidden behind a black lace blindfold stood in the yard. His thin white button-up shirt with it's sleeves rolled up past his elbows, a simple blue vest overtop of it, and dark navy blue slacks tucked in under his brown riding boots.

Jase Dubois brushed down a tan Clydesdale, the gentle animal nudging his shoulder with her nose. She had been weary of the young man when she first met him, but she grew used to the strange vibe he gave off, and now she trusted him. Sometimes even more than her other owner; Jase's tall and rather giggly husband.

He laughed and moved to pet her, "You just want an extra sugar cube when I put you away for the night."

The horse whinnied and shook her head as he ran his hand along her neck, feeling her silky coat.

A tall, lean man with a mass of silver hair falling all the way past his hips strode up the path from the quaint little cottage. Wisteria had climbed up the walls over the seasons, lending a lovely, blossoming fragrance all around the porch. The scent clung to the silver-haired man, as he'd just finished pruning the vines to keep them from getting too terribly overgrown. He stopped beside the brunet, and he reached out to pat the animal on the nose before bending down to plant a soft kiss on his companion's smooth cheek.

"And good evening to you, my dear." He tipped the top-hat on his head in greeting and straightened back up. "Dinner is ready, when you finish with our darling nag."

"You just want extra sugar cubes for your tea, as well." Jase accused teasingly, turning to look up at his tall lover and popping up on his tip-toes to catch Undertaker's jaw before he stood up all the way. "I'm almost done."

The reaper smiled brightly at him, his white teeth flashing in the fading sunlight. "No rush, lovely. I'll just—"

Before he could finish speaking the skies cracked with lightning and clouds rolled in. The reaper stared up at them curiously for a moment, his smile fading a bit. The horse nickered in agitation and tugged at the reins. "Jase, love, I think you should get inside. I'll stable Faith for the night."

"Don't forget to feed her." Jase sighed, "…and lock the gate. You forgot last time and she got out." Jase gave the horse one last pat on the nose before he turned to run back into the small cottage they called home. He first stopped in the washroom to clean up before dinner, then headed to the kitchen to set the table.

The Undertaker watched him go, and then he led the horse to the stable and filled her feed-bag. The oddly abrupt storm outside worsened as he finished his task, and he went to the barn door to peer outside as rain began to fall down in heavy sheets. Fortunately, Jase made it to the cottage before the torrent started to come down—though the reaper could dare say he might have enjoyed the beat of cold rain against his body. He stood silently and sniffed the air, detecting something unusual about the weather. There was a scent to the rain; a fragrance that didn't sit right with him. He stuck a hand out into it to collect some of the water—which was so hot it was practically scalding—and he stared at the droplets on his pale skin as he pulled it back in. There was a hint of amber coloring to the liquid, caused by a sparkle of gold within it.

Chronus brought his hand to his lips and he licked a drop off. He immediately spat it back out when it sizzled on his tongue. "My, that's…acidic."

He didn't waste another moment. He adjusted his hat and stepped out into it, hastily closing the barn door before sprinting for the cottage. He made it through the front door and he removed the outer layer of his robes once he was inside, hanging them on the coat rack.

"Good thing I had you come inside," he informed his lover as he joined him in the small dining room and took his seat at the table. He began to cut into his sausage. "That's no ordinary rain coming down."

"What do you mean, Chronus?" Jase asked, glancing out the window at the rain hitting the glass pane, the distraction causing him to spill the hot tea he'd been pouring for his lover. The scolding hot water running over his small hand out of the cup. He couldn't feel the temperature, but the wetness caught his attention quickly and he gasped, hurrying to clean the mess.

The mortician quickly reached out to lay a hand over Jase's smaller one, using death's chill to cool it and sooth the burn even though the doll couldn't feel it. He watched Jase mop up the spilled tea with a towel and he glanced out the window. "It's not natural rain. There's a breach in the planes, if this is anything like the last time I saw rain like this. I call it angel piss."

Jase snapped his blindfolded gaze up to his lover, "Language!" he scolded, then sighed, "Angels...You don't think they are coming, do you? I'd really rather not meet one again." He tossed the soiled towel into the sink to be cleaned out after they finished their meal and needed to do the dishes, anyway.

"Don't know, love," admitted Chronus with a shrug. "The last time I saw this was right before a host of them came down, clear on the other side of the country. If I were to venture a guess, they've got a tiff happening within their own ranks and it's carrying over to here. Either that, or they're coming to show some demons the business end of their halos. I doubt we've got anything to worry about, but stay inside until that rain stops; it could scald your lovely skin; holy fire or not."

"…I have holy fire burning inside me, it might not harm me—but it may raise my temperature and cause me to take another cooling bath…so I'll stay inside until the weather clears up." Jase promised, "Especially after I caught you peeping last night!"

The former priest slipped into his seat at the table, "But if it's nothing to worry about, then lets enjoy our dinner. I believe I promised you 'cuddles' this evening."

"Oh, indeed you did," agreed the mortician with an enthusiastic nod and a smile. He reached across the table and squeezed Jase's hand. "And you know I can't resist a peep at my darling spouse."

He winked, chuckled and gave the hand another brief squeeze, before releasing it and taking a bite of his meal.

"You were hanging out the window like a monkey. That was creepy, even for you." Jase teased, "Normally you just join me." He took a bite of his taretar.

"Sometimes it's better to just quietly appreciate what I have than to maul it, darlin'." The reaper brushed his booted foot up against Jase's beneath the table, smiling flirtatiously at him. He scooped some peas onto his fork with some mash and brought it to his mouth.

"You have a strange way of 'appreciating'." The Frenchman teased, "You know I stopped hiding my body from you when I dress and bathe. You could just watch normally...like I watch you." He flushed.

Undertaker nearly choked on his food. He snickered behind his napkin and took a sip of wine to wash it down, once he felt safe enough to swallow. "I've never been accused of doing anything 'normal'," he finally excused when he could speak, "and I adore the way those pretty blue eyes of yours caress my body, love. If you want me to maul you every time you undress, however...I've got no objection to that."

"Not every time! I may lose the ability to walk again." He said, blushing darker, "But it's creepy finding you hanging out the window like that."

The reaper laughed again. "And who says I've got to ravish you with my goods, pet? There are more ways to love you than that."

"We don't have to have sex for you to render me unable to move—and you know it." He continued to tease. The former priest had always been so shy and had flustered easily at the hint of so much of a kiss shared with his husband. But over the years, he'd grown used to such things where the ancient reaper was concerned. Anyone else, he would resort back to his conservative mindset.

But they lived out in the vast countryside of France, far from any neighbors, and a fair distance from the nearest town. It was for both privacy, letting the male couple live as they wished without humans causing problems with their laws and beliefs against homosexuality, and for the safety of those humans from Jase's particular bloodlust he still couldn't always control. Eating his tartar helped, but not for long.

"I wasn't talking about the safety trigger." Undertaker grinned around the rim of his glass. "I much prefer you wriggling and squirming in our interactions. I promise to try and behave my naughty old bones and avoid being a peeping tom from henceforth, however. Don't think you haven't got a way about you to make me weak in the knees, though. When you do that lovely thing with your—"

Thunder boomed overhead, and the walls shook with the intensity of it. The overhead lantern swayed and Chronus reached out hastily to steady both his wine glass and Jase's water glass. He looked up at the ceiling with a brief frown, before glancing at the window. The skies had darkened considerably, and a chill of premonition went up his spine.

"My goodness...there will be deaths aplenty, by tonight. Not by mortal hands, either."

Jase had been about to point out that he hadn't meant his 'leash', at all, but, for once, something a little more personal. The reaper's kisses made him weak in the knees, after all, but the sudden thunder cut him off, and he looked up at the swinging lantern.

"Can anything be done to save them?" he frowned, standing up to walk over to the window, taking off his blindfold since it was dim enough not to hurt his sensitive eyes. He looked out, studying how the dark clouds twisted around themselves in a way he'd never seen before.

Chronus shook his silver head and returned his attention to his dinner. "I'm afraid not. Dispatch is going to be busy little bees, for the next day or so." He brought his wine to his lips and sipped it, nodding at Jase's plate. "Best not dwell on it, darlin'. I know that sounds cold to a warm-hearted gent like yourself, but there isn't much you and I can do. Last time I sensed something like this, it was an act of God. The Reapers will decide if any interference is necessary. It's not our place."

Jase nodded and sighed, resting his forehead on the glass, watching the rain a moment more before moving back to his seat and dinner. "I'll attempt to not dwell. No promises, though." He stated, picking up his fork.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

William awoke to the sound of Ronald puttering around in his apartment. His usual reaction might have been annoyance, but when he opened his eyes and saw his companion's nude form backlit by the gray morning light, he found himself feeling a bit charitable. He reached for his glasses and slipped them on, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep so that he could see him more clearly. A smile nearly curved his usually frowning lips as he quietly observed the blond reaper, and he admitted to himself that the vision of Ronald Knox in the buff was a thing he could get used to. The younger agent was standing at the open window, looking out over the city with interest. The storm that had come in yesterday evening had abated, more or less; though the ominous clouds hadn't gone away.

William stealthily slipped out of his bed and approached his oblivious lover, knowing how easily distracted he could be. He almost smiled again when Ronald gave a small start as he came up behind him and murmured into his ear.

"You don't usually wake before I do," observed the Dispatch supervisor, encircling the shorter man's waist with his arms. "In fact, I usually must drag you kicking and groaning from the bed."

It was just the two of them; he could afford to display a token of affection. He nuzzled Ronald's neck, just below the ear. "To what do I owe this unusual occurrence?"

"Morning's evil, of course I hate waking up to it." Ronald sighed, unusually serious for once. Normally he'd jump at the opportunity to try to make his lover flustered. To flirt with him openly and freely as they were not at work and William wouldn't spend the time reminding him that they needed to act professionally while at work.

"However, this time, I couldn't sleep. Something just keeps me up, ever since I went to the bathroom about…" he paused bending back until he caught sight of the clock in the moonlight, "…about an hour and a half ago." He stated truthfully. "No idea why…normally I'm out so hard I sleep-walk to relieve myself. But tonight…" He shivered slightly, turning his gaze up at the sky, "…It feels like something big is about to happen…"

William felt it too, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He only hoped it wasn't a portent of the Undertaker getting back up to his old tricks. Reminded of the dangerous, retired reaper, he recalled that the Dispatch officer assigned to his probation was due to visit his home in the French countryside today for the annual inspection. Mr. Holtz was usually an impeccable reaper; always on time and doing things by the book. Eric and Alan had expressed unease about him being assigned to the Undertaker and his doll companion, but the Shinigami authority decided last year that the couple was too emotionally invested in the case to resume their duties as probation officers.

He put aside his concerns about the legendary reaper. The Undertaker only had one more year of probation before his charges were cleared; surely even a man as unpredictable as he retained enough sense to stay out of trouble. His love for his doll was vividly clear to everyone, and William couldn't imagine him jeopardizing Jase's safety to satisfy any lingering curiosity he might have for experimentation. He pressed a kiss against Ronald's shoulder, again letting himself go a bit.

"Dispatch will contact us if anything is awry," he assured evenly, "That is, if the situation requires Shinigami intervention. Until that occurs, we must assume we have no part in whatever may be happening."

As if hearing his statement, his telephone began to ring. William released his lover with a sigh, quite used to having his few private moments of enjoyment with him interrupted by duty. "Excuse me," he said politely.

Stepping away from Ronald, he walked over to his bedside table and picked up the phone. "This is Director Spears. Yes. I…see. Understood, sir. I will see to it immediately. Absolutely. Thank you."

William hung up the phone and turned to Ronald. "Get cleaned up and dressed in your uniform. There's been angelic activity in Paris and we have souls to collect."

"…Paris? As in…Paris France? That's not our division…just how big  _is_  the job if they need London to help?" Ron gasped, moving to try to find his discarded clothes from about the room.

"…However…" A grin split his previously frowning lips as he tugged on his shirt and began to button it, "The city of lovers…maybe after the work is done we can have an evening of romance. Good food, great sex…you know, classic Paris date!"

"Apparently, they are just as short-staffed as we are," explained William, "And though we can only spare so many of our own officers to assist, we are duty-bound to do so. This isn't a vacation either, Knox, so do try to approach it with a professional attitude. It seems there is a host of angels attempting to purge demons from Paris and 'purifying' mortals in the process…which of course leads to their demise. You and Sutcliff both need to keep your wits about you, when we arrive to lend our aid. I can't have either of you distracted and reckless, do you understand? We're too understaffed for you to get yourselves killed fooling around."

Ronald pushed his lip out in a pout, "Is that the only reason? I thought you loved me, Senpai!" He hopped into his pants and fastened his white belt, "And when am I ever reckless…aside when I almost got you when we were fighting Phantomhive's demon…and on the ship…and last week with that Trancy demon…and yesterday when I ran into that big ugly—"

William interrupted his rambling with a surprise kiss, pulling him tightly against him and ravishing his mouth with his own. Sometimes, it was the only way to shut Ronald up—and he admittedly enjoyed using this technique to do so more than he would say aloud. He still couldn't say for sure how this energetic party boy always managed to rouse his passions so easily, and he found it briefly amusing to mentally note that Ronald probably maintained such energy because he was always sleeping in so late. His tongue danced with the blond's, silently promising delights yet to come…at a more appropriate time.

"Mmmh…I love half-naked boyfriend kisses." Ronald teased when they came back up for air. He cupped William's cheek, rubbing circles with his thumb along his soft flesh. "But in all seriousness, Will, if we are taking Grell then maybe you need to focus on keeping him in line. I could only imagine the trouble he'd cause there. A whole new group of men to flirt with, the shopping…He may go out of control with his girly stuff. I actually concentrate on my work while at work at least. No overtime means more fun afterwards."

"I'll keep him in check," assured William, his voice slightly husky with desire. He glanced down and he clucked his tongue in annoyance at the state of his endowments. Well, that was his own bloody fault. Giving his companion a warning look when Ronald waggled his eyebrows at him and eyed the bulge in his underwear, the supervisor turned away and headed for the bathroom. Perhaps a cold shower would set things right.

"Are ya sure you don't want me ta take care o' that?" Ron called after him with a chuckle. "I'll go put on the coffee."

"You do that," agreed William, flushing ever so slightly as he recalled the feel of Ronald's lips around his cock. "We have no time to play…unfortunately."

With that said, he vanished quickly into the bathroom to tidy up and rid himself of his bothersome condition.

Ron smirked, "Unfortunately."

* * *

 

"Eric, I'm fine." Alan sighed as he sat up in the hospital bed after Eric kept insisting on tucking him in, "It was a smaller attack."

He had awoken early to an attack, and Eric had been quick to rush him to the hospital.

"Look, it's already faded."

The blond man took his spouse's hand in his and he brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles with devotion. "Just give it a while," he insisted softly, and he began to lapse into the Scottish accent he tried so hard to mask around his peers. "I dinna' want ta lose you any sooner than I must, Al."

His eyes glistened with the hint of tears and he looked away, blinking. "Yer the strong one of the two o' us, really. I know ye hate it when I 'baby' ye, but I canna' let ye push it too hard. Och, listen ta me…goin' off wi' this doomsayin'…"

He cleared his throat and blinked again, taking a steadying breath. He forced a smile for the younger reaper—who was now looking at him with a tender sort of fond exasperation. He tamed his accent and he rubbed Alan's hand, lowering his gaze. "When you've rested a little more, we can go. If not for your own sake, then do it for mine. Recover your strength a bit, my heart."

"Eric," Alan said softly, pulling him down to sit on the edge of the bed so he could slip his arms around him and rest his cheek against his shoulder, "I know…and I don't want to ever leave you alone…I love you too much to think about you having to go through that pain. If I could spare you it, I would."

"And you know I love it when you let your accent slip out…sexy." He giggled, kissing Eric's cheek.

Eric took the invitation and ran with it. "Aye, I know ye do." He waggled his eyebrows at him and put his arms around him. "Were ye not in this hospital bed, I'd…" He pressed his lips against the smaller man's ear and murmured the rest to him, letting one hand slip around to the front of his hospital gown to trace the sweet, lithe torso beneath it.

"Know what I mean?" he finished after drawing a little shiver from him. The predictable blush surfaced on Alan's pale cheeks, putting some color in them at last. He could tell he was getting him hot and bothered already, and that was a good sign. Usually, the best way to test whether his husband was truly feeling better or just blowing smoke up his ass to keep him from worrying was to see if he could get him excited.

"Mmh…and if we were not in a public place I'd let you. But unless you let me check out you are only making things difficult, Mister Slingby!" Alan whispered, closing his eyes as more shivers racked through his body.

"Hmm, rough trade," murmured Eric. He nibbled the brunet's ear and slipped a hand into his gown to fondle a nipple. "If I let ye check out o' here, ye've gotta promise ta stay off yer feet fer a day an' let me take care o' ye…" He kissed the spot below Alan's ear, smiling roguishly. "And I dinnae just mean nurse maiding by that, in case it wasna' obvious."

Aroused himself now, he sucked lightly on the soft skin of Alan's neck and he dearly wanted to lock the door and appreciate the brunet in ways he knew would have him crying out in that soft, sweet voice of his.

"I know just what you—nnngh—meant—Eric! N-Not in public!" Alan moaned, closing his eyes and gripping Eric's shirt. His hospital gown was useless at hiding just what his lover and husband was doing to him.

Eric smiled. "Then I s'pose I'd best see about getting ye checked out, eh?" He stopped tormenting the other reaper and he stood up, casting a wink in his direction. "I'll go and take care of that, now."

Whistling softly now that he knew his partner was going to be more or less okay, the older Shinigami left his side and walked out the door to see about having him released.

Alan watched him go with a smile, leaning back against the pillows with a happy sigh. Rhea, he loved Eric so much…

* * *

 

Undertaker opened the door upon hearing the iron bell ring, and he immediately and promptly shut it in the visitor's face when he recognized Dispatch Officer Holtz. Jase witnessed the abrupt dismissal and he admonished his husband softly, reminding him that they still had to open their home to visiting probation officers. Chronus sighed and pulled the door open again, flashing a bright smile at the umbrella-wielding man standing on his porch with a sour look on his hard, lined features.

"Good morning, sunshine," greeted the mortician. "Sorry about that; old habits die hard."

Holtz had a hawk-like nose, dark hair and a uni-brow and a perpetual scowl on his thick lips. He wore his hair tied back with a dark ribbon and he dressed in the typical Shinigami work suit. He stepped inside as the taller reaper moved aside for him, and he looked around the cottage with sharp interest.

"Death," he greeted in his rough, low voice. "How long has it been?"

The mortician shrugged. "Four-hundred years? More or less."

Holtz nodded, his cold eyes settling on Jase. "I returned to London dispatch to hear some interesting things about you. I had to see for myself."

"And now you see," said the Undertaker.

"In my opinion, they should have locked you away forever," said the officer bluntly.

The mortician laughed. "And that's why you got yourself put on the parole list, eh? Hoping to see me trip up?"

Thunder boomed overhead and both reapers glanced up as the light fixtures shook. Holtz cleared his throat a moment later, betraying slight unease with the continuing storms. The worst had faded, but it still rained intermittently and the storms continued to rage over Paris, miles to the east.

"Well, let's get on with it," said Holtz. He withdrew a small folder from his jacket and he adjusted his square glasses to read over it. "I require a full tour of the premises and your laboratory. It says here that you've been doing apothecary work."

Undertaker nodded and put an arm around his small spouse. "Indeed, I have. It's not glamorous, but between my work and Jase's crafting, it pays for our needs."

"Hmph. How quaint. I'll also need a written account of all your daily comings and goings, since the last time you were inspected."

The taller reaper nodded again, his smile slightly menacing. "I assume you'll want to have a peek at our drawers and see our unmentionables, too."

"I have to inspect every corner," answered Holtz calmly. "I'm sure you know that."

Chronus sighed, and he gave Jase a squeeze when the doll shot him a questioning, worried look. He could go over his history with this annoying reaper later, after he'd gone and left them in peace.

Jase could tell there had been something going on between these two old reapers once upon a time. Whether or not they had once been friends and allies, or rivals, He didn't know. But it was apparent that it had not ended well. There was a shared bitterness between the two.

He knew better than to get involved, but he would not stand for any disrespect of his husband. He planned to keep an eye on this man.

On top of that, the man seemed to have forgotten his manners. Chronus as well, but he'd grown used to his love's random absentmindedness. He, however, still had his manners and he took a step forward, extending his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Jase Dubois, as I'm sure you have already read in Chronus' file when you took over his parole from Mister Humphries and his husband Mister Slingphries." He offered a smile, "But I don't believe I have caught your name..?"

The Shinigami officer shook Jase's extended hand, eyeing him curiously. "Quinton Holtz. Yes, it's unfortunate that Mr. Humphries and Mr. Slingby were made to step down, but the organization felt they lacked objectivity and could no longer provide impartial reports. I'll suffer no such emotional ambiguity."

"No, you'll just do the opposite of them and look for negative things to report," guessed Undertaker with a smirk. Eric and Alan tended to excuse little things that might lead Dispatch to being more restrictive.

"I am a professional," said Holtz, withdrawing his hand. "And unlike my associates, I have no intention of cutting corners to make things easier for you. If you slip up even a little, I'll know about it, Death."

"I'm quaking in my pointy boots," chuckled Chronus. "I suppose I can't really blame you for being perpetually sour, with that ghastly meat pie you call a face."

Holtz's expression darkened, further accenting the rough facial features. "You aren't quite so pretty yourself anymore. You still bear my marks."

Undertaker nodded. "Indeed I do." He traced the long scar slashing down over his sculpted features. "Doesn't surprise me that you went straight for the face, chap. You were always jealous of the attention I got from the ladies…and gents, for that matter."

"Chronus!" Jase turned and looked up at him, "Battering back and forth with your parole officer is not going to help you. Now I suggest putting whatever happened between you two behind yourselves and be a decent host to our guest, and you, Mister Holtz, should try to respect my husband in our own home." He scolded both men. "Try to remember you are both adults."

The Frenchman sighed, "Now, How about I start giving you a tour of our home while Chronus prepares some tea?"

Chronus' cheeks pinkened the faintest bit in response to being chastised like a child, and Holtz harrumphed. The parole officer gave a stiff nod and made an attempt to be gracious. "Very well, Mr. Dubois. I'd rather not spend all day here, anyway."

"I'll go and check on my herb garden while the tea is brewing," announced Chronus. "I may need to reinforce the roof of the green house to ensure none of the angelic rain burns through it, if we get another downpour. It would be a shame to lose half my produce."

"I'll need to inspect your garden as well," said Holtz, "to be sure you aren't growing anything forbidden by Shinigami authorities."

Undertaker's brows went up beneath his shaggy bangs. "Common apothecary herbs are forbidden? That's a pretty bit of news to me."

"There are substances you have been forbidden to use, Death," reminded the other reaper, "substances you used in the process of creating your abominations."

Chronus scowled. "Careful, old chap. I might get the impression that you're insulting my spouse, when you talk that way."

"You know very well what I'm talking about. It really doesn't take much to rattle you these days, does it?"

Chronus glanced at Jase, saw the warning look on his face, and sighed. He forced a smile and spoke through his teeth. "I'll get the tea started. Enjoy the tour, Quinton."

"This way, sir." Jase said to the man, leading him into the cottage, "Ask what you want, look where you want…do you job but please try to respect my husband. He has worked hard to gain back Dispatch's trust. Don't disregard his work."

"I'll acknowledge his sincerity when I've seen for myself that he is trustworthy," said Holtz evenly, "and given past experiences with him, I'm not so easy to convince. Lead on, Mr. Dubois, and I will follow and document."

Chronus bit his tongue as the annoying agent left with his husband, and he went into the kitchen to start the kettle. While that was heating up, he went out the back to the little green house sheltering his herb garden and he paused for a moment to look at the boiling skies. Far to the distance, he could sense the body count rising and he doubted that Paris Dispatch had enough agents to go around for collection of those records. He wondered how many London agents might get tangled up in this, and he grinned at the thought of the complaints that were sure to come from William T. Spears at the possibility of more overtime.

He hopped lightly up onto the roof of the greenhouse—a jump that no human could have made straight from the ground. He practically floated as he inspected the roof for signs of corrosion, careful not to let his weight settle on the surface of the glass. Everything still seemed secure, and he congratulated himself and Jase on a job well done when they built the structure together. Satisfied that the roof would hold under another downpour if it came, he hopped back down and went inside to check on his garden. As he was rummaging through the many and varied herbs, he came across a couple that gave him an idea. He grinned and he took out his pruning knife.

"Why hello there, exotic aloe vera plant," he greeted as he cut off a stem. Whistling to himself, he pocketed it and moved on to the next one that would make it more potent.

Jase showed the reaper from room to room, getting more and more frustrated with the man's actions. In each room, he searched every nook and cranny pulling things out of drawers and off shelves, not bothering to put anything back before demanding to be shown to the next room; until their home had been torn apart—except the kitchen.

Undertaker was already pouring the tea when they returned to the kitchen and dining area. He shot a cheery smile their way and he carried the tea tray over to the table, laden with steaming cups, cream and sugar cubes. "Everything in order, then?"

Holtz took a seat and nodded as the mortician handed him his cup. "I'm more or less satisfied; though I still need to inspect this area and your garden."

"Take a moment for some refreshment, and then have at it," agreed Chronus with a shrug. "Just don't trample my plants. Your favorite was always chamomile, as I recall. Help yourself to the cakes and biscuits, if you're peckish." He went to retrieve the snack tray and he carried it over to the table, before sitting down beside Jase and dropping several sugar cubes into his own tea.

Holtz poured some cream into his cup and ignored the sugar. "Correct. I'm not hungry, but I will have some tea. One thing I will say in your favor is that you always brewed a fine pot." He lifted the cup to his lips and had a sip. His features relaxed a bit in pleasure at the taste, and he sat back in his chair.

"Offering me compliments, eh?" Chronus chuckled and reached for a couple of his bone-shaped shortbread cookies. "That's unusual."

"A good cup of tea is hardly enough to redeem you," reminded Holtz. He drank more deeply, obviously enjoying the beverage.

"Can't blame a fellow for trying." Chronus shrugged. He looked at his spouse. "How much damage did he do, my dear?"

Jase grunted, his eye twitching slightly as he was too polite to say what was really on his mind about the topic. Instead he lifted his cup of tea and held it out to Undertaker for it to be chilled for him. He could drink it, but his lack of ability to feel temperature would risk him unknowingly burning his tongue.

The ancient smirked, knowing his mate well enough by now to read his body language. They probably had quite a mess to clean up, when this inspection was over. Perhaps Jase wouldn't lecture him too much. He took another sip of his tea and he nodded at Holtz. "I see you need a top-up. Why don't you ask your questions of me while I refill your tea? Jase, love, show him the little carving you've been working on. You know, the one of the squirrel in your pocket?"

Jase gave him a puzzled look, but he withdrew the piece in question and showed it to the parole officer. "Isn't he talented?" Undertaker gushed proudly as his blushing love displayed the carving. While Holtz's attention was diverted, he deftly produced a vial from his sleeve and let a few drops of clear liquid fall into his tea. "I know it's only small and half-finished, but Jase does amazing things with wood."

Chronus winked suggestively at the doll as Jase glanced up at him, not speaking entirely of lumber.

The doll flushed. There was a time that such an implication would have been lost on him, but living with a man who could be rather lewd at times had opened his mind to the dirtier side of things.

"This one is a commission," he explained, setting the small carving on the table, "Part of a larger sculpture."

Holtz looked at it with mild interest. "You do seem to have a way with carving. Your husband clearly admires your work." He looked across the table at the Undertaker as the taller reaper sat down, and he put some cream into his tea. "I could almost believe you've been domesticated."

Chronus shrugged and grinned at Jase. "I've always been a domestic sort in my own dwelling. Now I've just got someone to share it with."

"Hmm, charming." Holtz sipped his tea. "And you haven't been doing any mortuary work?"

"You've read the reports," stated Chronus. "You know I've dressed a body or two around these parts for the locals. It's not as lucrative as my former practice, but this far outside city boundaries I'm the only one for miles with the skills to do it. Sometimes folk from the nearby village need my services and I provide them in exchange for produce or goods for the home."

"Not laughter?" Holtz raised a bushy brow and took another sip. His stomach rumbled and he frowned, patting it.

Undertaker shrugged and topped up his own tea. "I'm not doing autopsies for local law enforcement here; I'm preparing their loved ones for their special day. Mortals tend not to tell good jokes when they're grieving for family, and if they do, odds are they're the ones that killed 'em."

"I…see." Holtz's stomach made a squishy, bubbly noise and he put a hand over it again, sipping his tea to settle it. "Well, I think we should move on to the laboratory and herb garden. I have a schedule to maintain."

"Finish your tea," suggested Chronus. He grabbed another cookie and munched it.

"It is…good tea," agreed Holtz. "You can accuse me of being jealous of you for other reasons, Death, but the one thing I always envied was your knack for balancing the tea leaves."

Chronus grinned broadly and propped his chin in one hand. "It's a science, like chemistry, botany and biology. If you know how to mix chemicals or a good tonic, you can blend a good tea or mix a good drink."

"And you always were good with…the science," observed Holtz. He shifted in his seat and winced. "If you'll excuse me, I think I need to go to the loo."

The Undertaker stood up and gestured gracefully toward the archway. "Be our guest. You know which door it is, of course. I'm sure you've searched every nook and cranny of it."

Holtz didn't even make a rebuttal. He got up and headed out of the kitchen hastily, farting twice along the way as he hurried down the hall. The bathroom door slammed shut and a muffled groan could be heard faintly. Chronus held his composure for all of two seconds after that, and then he started to snicker.

"Old chap needed to loosen up," he said when he caught his breath. He nudged Jase. "Get it? Loosen up? His bowels are—"

The sound of said bowels bellowing in the restroom interrupted the mortician's joke, and he turned, bent over and buried his face against Jase's shoulder to muffle his laughter.

"You…didn't have anything to do with that, I trust?" Jase raised an eyebrow, looking at his lover, "Because you know you need to behave…I'd rather not see you back in prison doing time."

The doll was worried. The man definitely didn't trust or like Chronus, and he didn't seem the forgiving type.

"I don't think this would be like all the times you have pulled pranks on Eric when he and Alan came by to check up on us."

Chronus composed himself and straightened back up, wiping his mouth in case of drool. "Ah, the Slingphries. How I miss having  _them_  as my probation officers." He bent down to plant a quick kiss on the tip of Jase's nose. "And don't worry. He can't toss me in jail because he got indigestion in my home, love."

The tortured sounds in the bathroom continued, and Chronus grimaced. "Don't worry about that, either. I'll take care of the cleanup."

He was rather hoping the additive he'd put in Holtz's tea wouldn't kick in quite so soon, or at least not so severely that the man couldn't wait to get out of their home to drop his guts. He must have given him one drop too many. Ah well, it wasn't fatal. He'd have a massive case of the runs until tomorrow and at worst he'd be dehydrated and have a sore bum for a few days.

Jase sighed, "As much as he may deserve it…I worry about losing you." He cupped his lover's cheek and pressed their foreheads together, "I'm nothing without you…the time you spent in prison…that was torture."

"He's got nothing on me to put me under arrest," assured Chronus in a low voice. He planted a quick kiss on Jase's lips and smiled at him. "You and I had the same tea he did, after all."

The noises from the bathroom finally ceased, and after a moment Holtz came out. He looked rather sweaty and pale, and the vibrant disdain from before had melted in the face of his personal discomfort. He returned to the kitchen and he started to say something, but his stomach rumbled and he put a hand over it.

"Feeling alright, chap?" inquired the Undertaker innocently.

Holtz glared at him. "What did you give me?"

Chronus raised his brows and put a hand on his chest. "Me? Why, I served you chamomile tea; your favorite. Something you ate before coming here, perhaps?"

The parole officer eyed him suspiciously. "I don't know how or when you did it, but I'm almost certain you slipped something into my drink to do this to me."

"You watched me pour it with your own eyes," insisted Chronus. He held up his hands and let his long sleeves drop to display his pale, lean forearms. "See? Nothing up my sleeve. Want me to strip down for inspection?"

Holtz burped and shook his head, deflating. "Absolutely not. I'm afraid I've got to excuse myself, but I'll be sending someone over to finish inspection for me. You had better hope I don't find proof that you're responsible."

"Ought to be more careful about those pubs you're so fond of eating in," suggested Chronus with a smile, unfazed by the veiled threat. "Some of them don't use the freshest ingredients, you know."

"I'm keeping my eye on you," warned Holtz.

He didn't stick around to say more. His stomach rumbled again and he hurried out of the cottage, quickly creating a portal back to the Shinigami realm once he was out the door. Undertaker and Jase followed him out and the mortician waved cheerfully as he stepped through and vanished. The silver reaper stopped waving once he was gone, his smile dropping a bit.

"That's what you get for calling my snuggles an 'abomination', you flap-mouthed codpiece." He sighed. "I surely miss our old parole officers. I wonder how young Alan is faring, these days."

"Hard to say," Jase shook his head sadly, "Sometimes he seems to be doing better, other times he's visiting the hospital every other day, or being forced to stay there a few days… I can't imagine how Eric must feel, having his husband so close to his end, constantly…" Jase sighed, leaning against Chronus, "…I couldn't stand the idea of knowing I'd lose you at any second."

The reaper imagined what it would be like to suffer that kind of uncertainty as well, and he grimaced a bit and put an arm around his companion. Alan's death was almost a certainty. It was just a matter of when and where, these days. He knew that if it was his love in such a state, he would do anything and everything in his power to save him.

"Pity we can't give them a visit." He pulled Jase to him and bent over to kiss him on the crown of his head. Thunder rumbled, sounding like it was coming closer. "Come, let's take care of this mess our guest left behind, love. I'll take care of the bathroom, naturally..."

He didn't actually admit blame for whatever state the bathroom was in after Holtz relieved himself, but then Jase knew him well enough by now to not be fooled by any declarations of innocence.

"I'll start with the bedroom, then move to the sitting room." Jase nodded, hugging his lover, "If he tears apart our home like this again, I'm not staying silent about it!" he grumbled. He enjoyed having a nice, orderly home. Messes didn't last long once he discovered it. The last time their home—or rather, the kitchen—was such a mess, an animal had found its way in while the couple was out on a day trip to the nearest town.

Undertaker smirked. "I could almost pity him, if he raises your ire enough to get a true reaction out of you, darlin'."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

Together, the couple went inside to clean up the mess from the inspection. It took a little over an hour, and they were just finishing up when Holtz's understudy arrived to finish the job and investigate the lab and the gardens. The agent was rather green and mild mannered; a welcome change from his abrasive superior. He hastily declined when Chronus offered him something to drink and eat, and the mortician reigned in his amusement as he realized that Holtz must have warned him not to partake in refreshment while there. He didn't touch anything; he just followed the retired reaper around, asked questions and jotted down notes before bidding them a good day and taking his leave. He also insisted on taking samples of the tea they'd served to Holtz with him, which Chronus readily supplied for him.

"Don't look so concerned, love," soothed Chronus after the agent left. He smiled and caressed Jase's face lightly with his long, black nails. "They won't find a thing in that tea besides chamomile and ordinary spices. They'll have to write Holtz's unfortunate bowel problem off as a reaction to something he ate before visiting us, you'll see."

At Jase's sigh, the mortician chuckled and gave him an affectionate kiss on the mouth.

"I worry…You know I worry. You are uncontrollable at times…" Jase sighed, walking over and sitting on the couch, "What happened between you and that man, anyway?"

Undertaker joined him and slipped an arm around him. "It's not a terribly interesting story. Holtz and I once worked together, back in the day. He disliked my methods...said I was too compassionate with my assignments. He wasn't fond of my personality, either. In addition to that, I got all the assignments he wanted for himself. He's a jealous old sod...tried to get to Marie Antoinette before me. I beat him to it and got high praise for my results, and he stewed and hated me even more. In the end when I defected and they came for me, he was leading the charge."

Chronus grinned sharply. "He left his mark on me forever, but I got him just as good. He was one of the only two reapers to crawl away after they tried to take my scythe from me. He's never forgiven me for living this long, my dear, and he's just boiling for a chance to see me punished."

"You have already been punished." Jase shook his head and leaned up against his tall lover, "And you have been  _mostly_ well behaved since you came home with me. He missed his chance at seeing you behind bars, and I'm not willing to see you in there again. It was lonely for us both."

Chronus nodded. "Indeed, it was." He loosened the ribbon in Jase's hair with one hand, while turning down the lamp with the other. Combing his fingers through the freed brown locks, the reaper began to loosen Jase's blindfold. "Every night I thought of looking into these lovely eyes, my dear. That was what kept me from going mad again. I knew I had you waiting for me."

He cupped the back of the doll's head and kissed his soft lips, using light pressure at first. "I thought of these lips," he murmured, pausing the kiss. He ran the nails of his free hand over Jase's vest and undershirt. "And I thought of this sweet little body, and the way it fits so nicely against mine. I can't tell you how many nights I...er...did things...and pretended it was your hands on me."

"…And you already know about my mini-Chronus I snuggled with in that large freezer." Jase blushed. He cupped his lover's cheek, "But that toy just wasn't the same as having you with me."

The reaper laughed in delight and gave Jase a squeeze. "That was a precious bit of sentiment on your part. I would have loved to see you snuggling that doll." He kissed him again and he stroked the curve of his back with possessive, loving care. His tongue delved between the doll's lips, flicking teasingly against Jase's before withdrawing again. He traced the doll's mouth with the tip of it before entering it again, and he drew him into his lap.

The thunder boomed and rolled outside, and Chronus held Jase a little tighter when the young man jumped. "Just noise, love," he assured him. It was unusual for Jase to be skittish of thunderstorms, but this was no ordinary storm.

The doll sighed, relaxing down against his lover, "I know…it just…it  _felt_  more than that. I've never seen a storm like this…and it just wont die down, it seems." Jase lifted his inhuman blue gaze up to meet acidic yellow-green eyes, only half-hidden by white fringe. "It startled me, is all."

Undertaker caressed his face and smiled. "We're safe, darlin'. Pay that noise no mind." He closed the distance between their mouths for another kiss, and he cupped his bottom to position him so that he was straddling his lap. "Mm, that's better. I've been waiting all day to hold you in my lap like this."

He unbuttoned the top of the soft blue shirt Jase was wearing, bearing more of his throat and clavicle, and he kissed his neck. "I think I deserve a reward for good behavior."

"Good behavior? You put something into a man's tea and sent him running for the bathroom!" Jase pointed out. "…But it has been a while, and you have been patient with me about it…" He smiled and pulled away without another word; walking towards the stairs up to their bedroom, pinching open the buttons to his vest as he walked.

Chronus watched him for a moment, a grin spreading over his face. "Styx, I love your subtle eroticism." All it took for Jase to make him harden was a whisper of a suggestion, and the evidence of such was already tenting his robes. He stood up and followed him, watching that delectable backside with delight as they ascended the steps to the upper level.

It was a rare treat for Jase to strip down properly; leaving a trail of his clothes on the floor. Normally he'd put them in the basket for dirty laundry right away. But his vest dropped down at the base of the stairs, his shirt followed and landed lightly on the banister; sliding down slightly until it fell off and pooled onto a step half-way down. His shoes were kicked off in the hall (Accompanied by his socks) and his pants left his hips and legs at the door to the bedroom. His underpants; gone before he slipped onto their large double-bed, waiting for his husband to catch up.

Undertaker followed the trail of clothing goodies his love dropped in his wake, smiling broadly as he entered the bedroom and found the treat waiting for him at the end of it. Though he couldn't see the details of Jase's reclined form very well from this distance, he took a moment at the threshold to admire his nudity. He caressed the lean chest, tight little stomach and narrow hips with his eyes, combing his bangs aside with his fingers to get them out of the way.

"I feel like I've followed a trail of breadcrumbs to the gingerbread house," he remarked as he began to disrobe. He walked slowly toward the bed, his dark clothing pooling on the floor as it was removed bit by bit. Eventually stripped down to nothing but his form-fitting pants and high black boots, he stopped before the bed and bent over Jase, placing his hands on either side of the prone, lithe form awaiting his attentions.

"Such a lovely vision," he crooned, his long hair falling around his shoulders to brush against the doll's fair, naked skin. "A treasure trove of sweetness. I could eat you up...but then I would be all out of Jase to love on, wouldn't I?"

He chuckled at his own joke and he began to unbuckle his boots. His pants were bulging in an obscene manner by now, and he winced a little as he shifted and pinched his goods by accident. "Ah...that can be very uncomfortable. See what you do to me, lovely?"

"And who's fault is it that you wear pants so tight, yet hide what they show off under all those robes?" Jase countered, running his hands over the tightly stretched fabric of his husband's pants. "Hardly seems fair sometimes."

Chronus made a sound of desire in his throat at the simple touch, and he practically purred when those talented little hands reached around to cup his bottom. "Like my pants, do you? If it pleases you, I'll stop wearing the robes around the house so you can pat my bottom anytime you like." He finished removing his boots and he caressed Jase's chest, fondling the nipples to hardness. "Care to help an old reaper out of these tight pants, love?"

"The temptation to do so would increase." Jase flushed, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his lover's pants and working to push them down. As he did so, he leaned up, suckling on Undertaker's collarbone. "Mmm…"

The reaper tilted his head back and stroked Jase's hair, relishing the attention. He wriggled out of his pants as the doll pushed them down, and he kicked them away unceremoniously. Now as nude as his husband, he reached down to part Jase's thighs, wedging his own between them. Even sitting up on the high bed, the doll was too short to reach higher than his chest, but that was fine by Chronus. He gently pushed against Jase's chest, urging him to lay back against the mattress, leaving his parted legs dangling over the side of the bed.

Chronus fully intended to ask Jase what position he preferred for lovemaking, but there was a bit of playing to do first. There was no rush; he could afford to build up to it and love on his sweet one for a while. He stroked the smooth, lean expanse of Jase's chest, running his hands over the torso and hips as he gazed down at him. He smiled when the doll's erect shaft twitched a bit in response to the simple touch, and he bent over his prone form to drag his long hair over his body, letting the silken strands caress his bare skin.

Jase had always had a weakness for his hair.

He slid his hands inward from his hips to his pelvic bones, stroking his palms over them lovingly as he retracted his nails. He framed the whole of the doll's genitals, massaging his inner thighs right where they met the pelvis, just underneath his groin.

"I think this wants to be touched," he purred, bending over further to lightly blow on the flushed tip of Jase's erection.

Jase let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes and letting his body enjoy the soft touches. He tilted his head to the side and shifted, his hips rolling slowly to meet his lover's hands. "Hnnn…" he let a low hum-like growl escape, his hands sliding up along each of Undertaker's pale thighs to his hips, and back down to his bent knees.

His swirled eyes cracked open again, hooded as they gazed lovingly up at the love of his life; his soul mate. The only being he would ever allow do anything close to this with.

The reaper smiled down at him as he curled his fingers around Jase's hardened sex and gave it a gentle stroke. He watched those pretty eyes flutter shut, watched the flush of passion darken Jase's cheeks, and he reciprocated the growling noise. His gaze followed the graceful column of the young man's throat as Jase turned his head, and he felt compelled to run his tongue over it. He lowered his upper body to do just that, his hair draping over the doll as he licked his neck. He pressed the moist tip of his own arousal against Jase's smooth inner thigh as he began to pleasure him, kissing and licking his throat as he did so.

"Touching you is like a slice of paradise, my dear," breathed the Undertaker huskily. He stroked his thumb over the velvety tip, slicking a drop of moisture over it. Jase squirmed and his smile of delight grew. He did so love to provoke these reactions from his love. "Want my lips around it, lovely?"

The doll's chest heaved a few times with each breath he took, his soft lips parted to let his breath feather in and out.

With a hum, he cupped Chronus' cheeks in his palms, pulling him into a kiss, humming against his parted lips as he slipped his tongue into Undertaker's mouth, "Yes…" He panted when he let their lips part, "Yes…I want you…"

There was once a time He'd never admit such a thing out loud, and he did still feel a bit awkward about it, but he knew Undertaker would never judge him for anything he admitted or asked for in their passion.

"Ask and ye shall receive," promised the reaper huskily.

He let his mouth lead the way, caressing and kissing Jase's body as he slowly migrated downward. He propped the doll's legs on his shoulders to support them and to give himself better access to the treasure he was seeking. As he showered the young, heated body with adoring kisses, he blindly reached out for the jar on the bedside stand. With skill born of practice, he opened the jar and scooped some of the slippery ointment out, rubbing it over his fingers.

When his lips reached their destination, he took a moment to nuzzle beneath the shaft, kissing the plump sack beneath it and drawing a gasp and a shudder from Jase. He saw the doll's hands grab handfuls of the bed sheets from his peripheral vision and he smiled, parting his lips to let his tongue out. He licked the underside of Jase's shaft as he began to rub the remainder of the ointment into the puckered little hole beneath the doll's groin.

"Nnn…Oh!" The small Frenchman gasped, his length twitching against his lover's tongue.

"Mmm," purred Chronus, licking down the other side. He nuzzled the balls again before licking the underside once more, and he circled the tip with his tongue. While Jase was distracted by the sensation, he eased a finger inside of him, gently pushing it in up to the knuckle. The resulting gasp was music to his ears, and he held it still as the doll clenched impulsively around him. He closed his lips around the head of Jase's shaft and he gave it a firm suck that had the Frenchman's back arching.

He planted his free hand over Jase's pelvis, holding him down as he began to take him deeper into his mouth. The tightness relaxed around his finger and he withdrew it to the tip, then pushed it back in. He curled it against the 'magic spot' inside of his lover, stroking carefully as he started moving his sucking mouth up and down his length.

"Ahhn—Chronus…" Jase twisted his torso, his fists pulling the sheets of the bed up and off the sides of the bed. His head tipped back, his back bowed toes curled, and the urge to grab hold of Undertaker's hair found him. But he didn't, he knew his lover wasn't as fond of hair pulling as he was, which is what it'd turn into.

Further impassioned by Jase's reactions, the reaper bobbed his head faster and he began to pump his finger in and out, steadily exercising the passage to accept more penetration. He adored every moan, every twitch and every gasp his attentions provoked, taking his time with it despite how he ached to be inside of his husband.

"Want—you!" The brunet gasped, his elbow knocking one of the pillows off the bed. It almost wasn't fair that his lover knew every single one of his buttons to push to make him desperate. Though…he did know all of Chronus' buttons as well, and he tended to use them to tease the man.

Chronus paused his attentions, and he smiled up the length of Jase's delectable body to meet his eyes through the part in his long bangs. "How do you want me, love? Say it." He took his hand off the smaller man's pelvis to grip his shaft and stroke it slowly, lovingly. The saliva coating it made it glide easily in his grip, providing a more intense sensation than a dry fondling would have.

The brunet flushed deeply, "…in me," He whispered, "I want us together as one."

Jase hooked his hand behind his lover's head, pulling him up and into his parted lips, "Please, Chronus."

The reaper felt a shudder course through him at the soft request that he couldn't quite repress. He kissed his spouse passionately, positioning himself on top of him as Jase embraced him with his thighs and arms. He pumped his fingers a few more times to be sure he was relaxed enough, and then he withdrew them with care.

"You flirt with Death better than anyone I've ever known," gasped Chronus against those soft lips. He rocked forward a bit, dipping the head of his cock into Jase's body just a bit…just enough to entice and pleasure them both. He thrust his tongue demandingly into the doll's mouth to stroke his, dancing against it intimately as he gently pumped the tip in and out of the prepared entrance.

"I…haa…I have met death, survived him, spared by him…I have no fear for him…only…passion to be with him more." The doll breathed, squeezing his legs around the reaper's middle, pulling himself down onto his lover's shaft. "Ahh-!"

Jase hugged Chronus, sucking on his collarbone and leaving behind a dark mark on his pale skin.

The reaper hissed with pleasure and need, sheathing himself deeper into the gripping warmth of Jase's body. He tried to lift his head to gaze down at him, but his own elbows were pinning his hair to the mattress and it took him a moment to realize why he couldn't raise his head.

"Bloody hair," grumbled the Undertaker, shifting atop his lover to get off of the pale locks and swipe them aside. "There, that's better." He grinned down at Jase and he drove his hips down and forward, slowly filling him until he was fully encased. His eyes fluttered shut and he groaned softly.

"Darlin', I…" He had no words for it. It was usually at this point in their lovemaking when he got too stupefied by pleasure to say anything coherent. He gave up and kissed him again, waiting for the clenching around his girth to ease up.

Jase's heart pounded in his chest, synchronizing with his husband's. It was a very pleasurable side-effect of their marriage, as Jase called it. In reality, it had been a mating of two souls. They had taken part in a powerful reaper ritual that forever bound their two souls as one. Far more meaningful than the Mortals marriage as it'd last for eternity.

They could literally feel one another. Their emotions, their pain, their pleasure. It was all shared between them. And the sex…

Sweet Lord, the sex they shared was like nothing else. Jase felt the pleasure Undertaker gave him, and he felt the pleasure he gave Undertaker. It mounted and sent waves of pleasure through both their bodies. When they were together like this…it was all that mattered. The world could be burning around them and neither would care or take notice.

"Ha-!" Jase's head dropped back against the bed, his eyes closed to increase his sense of feel. His hands running lightly over Chronus' back.

The reaper trembled slightly under the assault of sensations. He began to move, gasping for breath as he experienced the feeling of penetration in both ways at once. It was harder to concentrate on what he was doing, but it was definitely worth it to share such bliss with his spouse. He nibbled Jase's ear as he slowly pumped, his breath catching along with the doll's. Jase's soft touch lent a pleasant touch to it, and Chronus arched his back with enjoyment. He drove in a little harder and angled his thrusts, seeking to stroke the most sensitive spot inside of him. He grinned and purred through his teeth when he felt the jolt he'd caused with his last thrust, and he did it again.

He muffled Jase's astonished whimper with a kiss, adoring him all the more for continually expressing such surprise when he did something particularly stimulating to him. Thunder boomed outside, closer this time. Undertaker could hear the rain begin to pelt the roof, but he was confident that he and Jase had weather-treated their cottage enough to protect against the strange properties of the precipitation.

"Jase," he groaned, his rising passion overcoming him. He rained kisses all over the gasping, moaning young Frenchman's face as he quickened and hardened his thrusts.

"Chronus!" The Frenchman clung to his lover, their bodies moving in unison against the sheets of the bed, sweat breaking out over their skin and causing their long hair of brown and silver to cling to its surface.

"Ohh— _ah_!" He could feel his length twitching, a pressure building in his lower gut as his body readied itself for release.

Chronus grinned through his own pleasure, gratified by his companion's lusty calls. He changed his pace to quick, shallow thrusts and he licked the salty perspiration from Jase's cheek, his breath huffing against his skin. "Love...this is my...favorite part; and not just because it...feels wonderful."

He kissed the side of his face, and then he nibbled his ear and groaned into it, feeling him getting tighter around him. "You grip me so tightly," he gasped, fighting not to reach that peak of bliss before his spouse did. "Sweet merciful death..."

"Cl-close!" The Frenchman gasped, hugging his lover tight, "Oh sweet heaven!" His body jerked upwards, arms and legs enclosing the reaper's nude form tightly against him as he reached his climax; spilling forth over both their stomachs.

Undertaker's eyes fluttered shut with rapture, and a breathy groan escaped his parted lips. He could last no longer. He bucked eagerly into Jase, filling him deep as he surrendered to the ecstasy. As he pulsed inside of him, he kissed his panting mouth and groaned again, his body going taut as a bowstring with his climax. He trembled with the intensity of it and he twitched inside of him for several heartbeats, until he had nothing left to give.

"Oh...my," gasped the reaper when he could finally draw breath again to speak. He lifted his head to gaze upon Jase, smiling with lazy satisfaction. "That made up for the bother of probation inspections."

He lowered his head and feathered soft kisses over the Frenchman's brow and cheeks, and he cooled his body temperature down when he felt the warmth radiating from that soft, fair skin. "Moments like this...make it all worth it."

"Completely…" The doll hummed, cracking open his swirled blue eyes to meet his lover's gaze. "I don't know how I ever lived thinking this was a sin…" He offered up a smile and pushed himself onto his elbows so his lips could find Chronus'.

The reaper gladly kissed him back, sighing in contentment. They remained that way for a while, exchanging languid kisses and caresses, before Chronus eased off of the smaller man and lay on his side. He pulled Jase to him and embraced him, stroking his hair.

"We need to pay a visit to the market tomorrow," he murmured sleepily. It was early for him to start considering going to bed, but angelic rain tended to make him drowsy. He supposed it was a symptom of the divine energy. As neutral supernatural beings, reapers were cousins to both angels and demons, in a manner of speaking. They were the white line between good and evil; or at least, they were meant to be. Chronus had meandered a bit more toward the darkness, before falling in love with his dollie. Grell Sutcliff was no better. Most of their kind, however, maintained the balance between darkness and light quite well.

"I'll sell my latest apothecary stock and you can put up more of your carvings for consignment, if you like."

On occasion they ventured into Paris for a weekend, usually when Undertaker felt like spoiling his husband with a romantic interlude of fine dining and entertainment. He felt in his bones that Paris would not be a good idea this week, however. Most of the weather disturbances seemed to be congested in that general direction, and the last thing he wanted was for Jase to have another encounter with angels. They'd done enough damage to him.

"Hopefully the rain lets up by then." Jase smiled, stretching to snuff out the old lanterns on the bedside table which was lighting the room slightly, apart from the moonlight through the window. With that done, he settled back in against his lover's soothing, cold chest, snuggling his cheek against his toned pectoral. "Normal rain is bad enough to try and make sales in, but burning hot rain? Unless humans can't feel it, I'd think they would stay out of the rain as much as possible."

Slipping his arms around Chronus' waist, he ran his rough fingers over his back, "Are you going to go to bed early for once, or will I have to let you go while you tend to your plants or…whatever you do late into the night?"

"Mmm, I think I can delay my gardening for one night," hummed the reaper. He kissed Jase's lips several times in a row, in love with the silken feel of them. "I think I'd prefer cuddling my darling dollie, tonight."

The lightning flashed outside briefly, lighting up the room through the panes of the window. Chronus glanced briefly at the disturbance and he frowned; but he quickly painted a happy expression on his face as he looked down at his spouse.

The doll had groaned, covering his eyes to shield them from the pain the sudden flash had brought them. "I'm drawing the drapes first, then." He said, getting up and waddling slightly as he moved to the window, pulling the draped closed to block out the light. Then he returned to the bed, slipping right back into his lover's arms like two pieces to a puzzle.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

Eric studied his partner with subtle concern as they arrived in the streets of Paris. He could feel his fatigue, unlike their colleagues. Alan had insisted on joining the efforts of their department to reap the souls of the victims falling to the angelic fury. Parts of the city were burning, ignited from both holy fire and hell fire. The bodies of angels and demons mingled with the bodies of the mortals that had been culled for being tainted by minions of hell. The reapers from both divisions were ordered not to interfere with the conflict or the killings; their jobs were simply to gather cinematic records and leave the angels and demons to their fight.

"Are you sure you're up for this, love?" asked Eric, looking around at the carnage. "Nobody will think badly of you if you change your mind."

Alan shook his head, reaching up to sweep his hair out of his eyes. It had gotten a little longer than he liked, but hadn't the time to get it trimmed up. "I'm fine. And they need our assistance. Every scythe counts during a large death event like this. I'll take a break if I need it, but I'm needed here." He offered a smile, "Besides, my place is by your side."

Eric took the opportunity to briefly squeeze his companion's hand, and his accent changed. "Tha's mah stubborn lad. Let's get it doon."

He readied his scythe and he ignored the cries of the dying, the screams of panicked mortals, and the blood pooling in the streets all around them. He saw Alan's look of pity when a bloodied hand reached out to them pleadingly as they passed down the ally, and he patted his shoulder comfortingly. Alan understood mortality better than any reaper alive, now. His sympathy for the dying could be as much of an asset as a hindrance, for who knew better what it was like to feel one's life slipping away from him than Alan?

Trying not to think about it, Eric prepared himself for the grim task before them.

Alan gripped his scythe, taking a deep breath to steal himself for the task. He couldn't save them—collecting their souls was the only way he could…at least then they had a chance at another type of life…at least then they wouldn't be consumed by the demons of Hell…

* * *

 

Chronus awoke early the next morning, troubled by dreams he couldn't even recall when he opened his eyes. He frowned as he sat up in the bed, combing his nails through his hair to drag his disheveled bangs out of his eyes. The sense of foreboding remained, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was connected to the weather anomalies they had experienced, of late. He glanced over at his companion's sleeping form and he smiled briefly; as he always did whenever he gazed upon Jase's innocent, slumbering countenance. He took a moment to run his nails gently down the doll's nude back, drawing a soft sigh of pleasure from him. He'd kicked off the blankets again, his natural modesty overpowered by the ever-present heat radiating from him. The reaper solicitously reached beneath the covers and created a chill that would linger against his lover's skin for a little while, keeping him comfortable.

He slipped out of bed and walked over to the bedroom window, yawning. It wasn't quite dawn, yet. He pulled aside the heavy curtains to peek out at the gray skies, and he frowned again when he spotted the odd, orange glow far in the distance over the hills—opposite to where the sun should be rising.

"Hmm, that's odd," whispered the Undertaker to himself. He squinted, his sleepy mind wondering if his sense of direction had gone off and he was just mistaking the positioning of his home. He walked across the room to the other window facing the east, and he peeked out to confirm it. The faint light of the rising sun could be seen illuminating the clouds there. " _Very_  odd."

He walked over to the western side of the bedroom again and checked the scenery outside there. "Huh...fancy that." He returned to the eastern window to compare, and that was when his spouse stirred and saw him wandering from one window to the other, awoken not by the sound of his soft footfalls, but his muttering.

"Chronus..?" Jase sat up, rubbing his eyes, "What are you doing?" He gathered the sheet from the bed and secured it around his waist before getting up and walking over to his husband, "You'll wear a hole in the floor."

The mortician stopped and hugged Jase in greeting, kissing his forehead. "Morning, my dear. Sorry to wake you with my ponderings, but there's something a bit odd happening with the sky. Your eyes are sharper than mine, so why don't you have a look and tell me what you can make of it? Don't worry; it's still mostly dark out so it shouldn't sting."

"Okay…" he said slowly, walking over to the window with his husband and looked out at the beginning of the sunrise, "…It's the sun." He stated, only to be hushed with a finger to his lips and lead over to the other window. He parted the curtains and peered out, frowning, "…Is there a large fire?"

Chronus nodded. "My thoughts exactly. If I'm not mistaken, that light in the west is coming from the general direction of Paris. Seems to be getting brighter, too. I think perhaps the city is on fire, love."

Jase's eyes widened, "Paris? But—Why burn the city like that? –It is the Angels, right? I mean, the strange rain…"

"Do you remember what I told you last night, about the last time I saw something like this?" When Jase nodded, Chronus put an arm around him comfortingly. "Chances are they're trying to purify Paris. Too bad for the mortals living there that may have come into contact with demons. It should be over in a couple of days, and as long as it doesn't come closer to us, we're best off not thinking about it. Paris is miles away."

"But so many deaths…" Jase shook his head, "So many innocent lives being destroyed like I almost was… Why can't they live humans to live as they are? We don't need 'divine intervention' from Heaven!" He hissed in anger, gripping the window ledge.

The reaper patted his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "The powers that be have always meddled in the affairs of mortals, love...supernaturals like myself, too. That's how it manages creation, after all. This might be ironic coming from a man like me, but angels have always been a bit on the mad side—according to the rules of sanity laid down by man, anyhow. They believe they are doing good when they purify mortals. They haven't a care for human's lives; only their souls. They think that by clearing the taint, they are saving them. Just as reapers believe they do mortals a favor when they reap them and collect their cinematic records for safe keeping. Creatures like myself, demons and angels don't tend to think in mortal terms. It's all about the souls, you see."

"…But what is a soul who can't live their lives?" Jase looked up, "All mortal souls want is to live. And…you should know that more than any of them…it's why the other Bizarre Dolls sought souls…I wish they could see that…souls need to live a fulfilling life…even if it's a fleeting one compared to angels and reapers…"

"True, they're stabbing themselves in the foot but cutting short the lives and experiences of the souls they've purged," agreed the mortician with a nod. "To an angel though, a shortened life is better than one corrupted by a demon. That's their logic, anyway."

He watched his spouse's troubled face and he sighed, wishing he could say or do something more to comfort him. For Jase, he would interfere if he could, but he knew he'd be standing alone if he tried. Dispatch likely already had agents swarming the city to reap the fallen, and if he showed up to try and fight off the angelic host, it would doubtlessly put another black mark on his record for 'meddling' in the affairs of life and death again.

In the far distance, one bright, flickering light trailed away from the carnage of Paris like a shooting star, and it was moving toward the countryside where Jase and his reaper husband lived.

* * *

 

"I think it could be stopping," Eric remarked as the rain stopped. He dragged his heated, damp bangs out of his eyes and peered around, searching the skies. Indeed, several angelic forms had retreated back into the heavens, though some still remained to finish off demonic adversaries, recover from injuries or put an end to mortals they had already begun to execute.

Officer Slingby looked at his brunet companion warily. "What do you think, Alan?"

Alan was panting slightly. The angels and demons, for the most part, left the reapers alone, but one greedy little imp had wanted to steal the soul Alan had been in the middle of collecting, which had started a battle, which Eric had ended once he spotted what was happening. But it left the brunette a little out of breath.

"Good…I hope so…I don't know how much longer I'd be able to help…"

Eric watched him with concern, feeling his exhaustion through their link and knowing how proud and stubborn he could be. He reached out and put an arm around him, hoping he wouldn't push away. "You've done your part," he insisted. "More than your part, in your condition."

He smiled, dropping the British accent. "What do yeh think of goin' ta visit Jase an' th' Undertaker for a bit? We're close enough to tha' neighborhood. Would na take much ta portal o'er there an' rest for a while, before we turn in our collections."

"If Spears gives us leave to do so." Alan nodded with a small smile. He and Eric were both quite fond of Jase, and the young man was almost like a son to them, which was why Alan had been removed from being Undertaker's probation officer. He was too close and familiar with the couple. "I'd like to see them again, see how they are doing and dealing with the new Probation officer."

"Given tha circumstances, I'm sure he will," assured Eric. "I'll contact him. He cannae be far, now. Why don't ya sit down while I try ta reach him?"

Alan gave a small nod and walked over to a bench, pausing to collect the soul of of last dying man before sitting down.

* * *

 

Chronus felt the incoming presence of two reapers just as he left his greenhouse, and he hurried down the little path to the front of the cottage, ready to draw his scythe at the first sign of trouble. It was all well and good when he was expecting company of the Shinigami variety, but them showing up un-announced just after his last inspection did not bode well.

"Jase," he called as he rounded the hedges, "stay inside, love we've got—"

Eric stepped out of the portal, supporting a tired and drawn looking Alan.

"Company," finished the ancient, frankly embarrassed by his paranoia. His mouth split into a broad grin as he banished thoughts of drawing his weapon on them and closed the distance. "Sorry, chaps...I had no idea you were coming. My, my...you're both looking a bit on the sickly side. Come in, come in and sit down! Jase, we have company, my dear! You'll be happy to see...oh, there you are!"

The Undertaker tipped his top-hat back a little and he smiled up at his spouse, who had just stepped out the front door onto the porch. "Look who it is!" He gestured at the couple, his long sleeves flopping over his extended hands. "And the rain is gone, too!"

"Och, is he  _always_  so excitable?" muttered Eric as he helped his companion toward the steps. "Tha man ne'er seems ta slow down."

Jase grinned and ran out to greet the two reapers, "Alan, Eric, It's good to see you." He gave each man a gentle hug and kissed on either side of their cheeks. "Come on in, we'll put the tea on."

" _Mòran taing_ ," said Eric gratefully. He immediately switched to the British dialect when both of his hosts looked at him blankly. "Er, thank you, that is. Sorry, I lapse into it sometimes...more often now than ever. This wasn't a scheduled visit, obviously. Alan and I were sent on assignment to Paris."

He gave Jase a one-armed hug and followed him up the stairs, half-dragging his husband. "A smatter of angels came down and wreaked some havoc there, and Paris Dispatch needed assistance in dealing with it. Al here insisted on going...stubborn lad."

Hearing Eric grunt with exertion and seeing the way Alan's head was lolling, Chronus stepped up. "Here, give him to me. You can hardly walk yourself, friend."

Eric looked at his companion uncertainly, breathing heavily with exertion, himself. "Alan?"

Alan smiled, "Oh come on, you can trust him with carrying me as much as I trust you carrying Jase."

The reaper couple were helped inside to the sofa near the unlit hearth.

"I don't know how cold it is, but we could start a fire if you're chilled." Jase offered, "Or Chronus can, I mean. I'll sit over there away from the heat, but where I can still converse with you."

"I don't think heat will be necessary," huffed Eric as he put an arm around his lover. "We've both had enough of fire for today...but Alan could use some tea, thanks."

Chronus nodded and hung his hat on the hook by the door. "Right away, my dears. I'll get the beverages ready while Jase keeps you both company."

Eric couldn't help but grin at Jase as the little Frenchman fussed over him and Alan, moving the ottoman to prop the latter's feet up and make him more comfortable. "Well, you have the Undertaker trained a little better, Jase. He's practically domesticated. Oh, I'm fine; I don't...well, okay."

He allowed the doll to prop his feet up too, and he fought a chuckle. "I still don't know how you get around so easily. I can hardly see a coin three feet in front of me without my glasses, and here you are, moving around with a blindfold like it's nothing."

"Sweet irony, wouldn't you say?" Chronus called out from the kitchen. "He looks like a blind man, but I'm the one that can't see for bollocks."

"I would say…my sight is too good. It's so sensitive to light, I can see just fine with only a small candle somewhere in the room. This blindfold is a thick lace that lets though just a small amount of light through the holes where I look through. Given, it does hinder my sight and I do have blind spots, but I have grown used to it." He smiled, "I only start bumping into things I don't see if I'm tired and not paying attention to my surroundings."

The doll sat down and got comfortable, "But I still get around better than when you are drunk." He teased the Scotsman.

Alan laughed, slapping his hand over his mouth in attempt to hide it.

"Oh sure...pick on the Scotsman," grumbled Eric gamely. "You don't hold your liquor all that well either, Jase. You're awfully cute when you get sauced, though."

"Indeed he is," agreed Chronus from the kitchen. He came out with a tray of teacups and accoutrements, and he set them down on the coffee table before taking his seat next to Jase. He looked at his mate and he flashed a grin, shaking his hair to one side to wink at him. "He's quite the cuddly fellow, when he's in his cups."

"Yes he is," Agreed Alan, looking at the other brunet, "falls asleep fast afterwards, too."

Jase flushed, "I don't remember…"

"No, but we do."

Undertaker snorted into his teacup as he was about to take a sip of it. "Careful now...careful. That's my beloved dollie you're speaking of. I could go into a jealous rage."

"He never thought of anyone but you," assured Eric as he doctored his tea with sugar and cream. "We just thought it was cute, the way he always curled up with that doll of you. He'd drift off, Alan would put it in his arms and he'd just snuggle it and mumble..."

"He was like a five year old with his favorite toy. It was adorable, and I think that was when Eric started calling him 'son'." Alan nodded.

"…I missed my husband…it was the only way…"

Chronus snickered in delight at the doll. "My, what a delightful shade of pink you've turned! No need to be ashamed, lovely. While we were apart, I hugged my pillow at night and pretended it was you. If I could have fashioned a 'Jase' doll in there to cuddle, I would have."

Eric put an arm around Alan and nodded. "Don't let our teasing embarrass you too much, son. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if Alan and I were ever forced to be apart for an extended period."

The blond reaper suddenly frowned, casting his eyes down in thought. He rubbed Alan's shoulder and when he spoke again, it was in a pained murmur. "He's everything ta me. I cannae even imagine what life would be like wi'out him."

Alan frowned, "Don't start, Eric. There is nothing we can do and you know it. Just enjoy the time we do have."

Eric grimaced and nodded. "Sorry, love. Seeing you overwork yourself today just put me in a pensive mood, I suppose."

Chronus watched the couple with covert sympathy. He and Jase had been separated for a few years, with visits permitted. Alan was going to die. Suddenly his time in prison seemed insignificant, compared to the loss Eric would suffer someday soon. He could sense how weak Alan had become since they'd last seen them, and he could see the desperation in Eric's eyes each time the subject came up. There was no cure for the malady that would end Alan's life...unless one were to buy into the legend of a thousand souls.

As the couple resumed chatting with Jase, the retired reaper watched Eric closely and listened with half an ear as they described the situation in Paris. He'd overheard them arguing over the supposed cure before...heard Eric offer to gather them for his spouse in order to save him. Alan shot him down, of course, being a reaper of high morals. Still, the Undertaker wondered how long Eric would be satisfied with adherence to his partner's wishes. His love for Alan was quite obvious, and Chronus knew well enough how one's own desires could blind a man—or a reaper—to his own evil.

"Eric, m'lad, why don't you help me with the snacks in the kitchen while our better halves chat, hmm?"

The Scotsman seemed a bit startled by the request, not used to being the one asked to help in the kitchen. He glanced at his partner and his expression softened. Alan needed his rest, after all. With a nod of agreement, the blond reaper stood up and followed his tall host into the kitchen. Upon seeing that the shortbread cookies and cheese plate was already laid out and waiting, he frowned.

"I'm not sure what more I can do here," admitted Eric, scratching his head.

Chronus turned around and gazed at him evenly. "Put the notion out of your head, chap."

A comical look of confusion crossed Eric's face. "The notion of what? Helping you with food?"

"The notion of testing the legendary cure out on your husband," explained the mortician with a nod toward the archway. "I know a thing or three about using mortal death to my own advantage, and you saw where it got me."

Eric flushed and looked away, his native accent returning. "I already promised him I wouldna' do it."

The Undertaker tilted his head and smiled. "Promises are hard to keep, when it means losing something you want so badly. I've lived too long and seen too much to be tricked by your spoken vow, Mr. Slingby. Each time the thorns sink in, your resolve wavers. As a man in love myself, I can appreciate that, my dear."

Eric combed his fingers through his hair in frustration and paced in a circle. "I thought I could bear it. I thought if I could just have his love while he's alive an' appreciate it, tha' would be enough. It's not, though."

His eyes welled up and he blinked and looked away, sniffing. "It's no' enough. I want more time wi' him."

The older reaper reached out and patted Eric's tense shoulders in a fatherly gesture. "This is the curse of taking the vows and binding ourselves to another's soul. Not even eternity is enough, when it comes to our soul mates. Buggering up your future by executing a thousand mortals before their time won't change a thing, though."

"It could," protested Eric, "there's a chance—"

"No, there isn't," interjected Chronus. "Even if it could, he's too far gone now, my boy. You could never gather a thousand souls before the thorns take him, and you know it."

Eric bowed his head hopelessly. "I shouldna' have hesitated."

The Undertaker squeezed his shoulders. "And do you think he would thank you, if you did manage to save him that way?"

The blond shook his head and heaved a desolate sigh. "He wouldna' have forgiven me."

"Now you're thinking clearly," approved Chronus. "You know it would be madness to try, just as I knew it was madness to start creating my dollies. The difference is you managed to avoid temptation, whereas I failed."

He gave Eric one more pat, before turning around to pick up the cookies. "Now, bring that cheese tray along and try to enjoy every moment you have with your partner, rather than wasting time on regrets. He's still alive, my dear. Make sure he knows it every day."

Eric stared at the old reaper, finally seeing the legend in the man. There was wisdom beneath that kooky exterior, after all.

Jase had moved over onto the sofa with Alan, the two brunets leaning in close together and speaking in low tones.

"Oh, you're back." Alan smiled, spotting the two reenter the sitting room, "Jase and I were just discussing the idea of dinner. We can't go to Paris for a double date, but we could have a modest evening in."

"It's been awhile since we have been able to do so." Jase nodded, "And with the rain finally gone, we can enjoy the moonlight."

Eric forced a smile for Alan's sake, and he set the cheese plate on the coffee table next to the tea and cookies, before reclaiming his seat beside him on the sofa. "If Chronus is alright with that, I'm in."

"Of  _course_  I'm alright with that," assured the mortician with a smile. He sat in the armchair adjacent Jase's and he reached for a cookie. "Feel free to stay overnight if you like, in fact. The spare bedroom is all yours, chaps."

Eric took a cheese wedge and paused with it to his lips, looking at his husband. "We shouldn't have any work tomorrow, unless those angels start their shenanigans again. What do you think?"

"I'm warn out…I wont bother denying it. Staying here for the night would be ideal, and I thank you two for hosting us." He said.

"Great. I'll clear out a few of my finished projects from the bed as I store them in there until we go to town to sell them." Jase nodded, "And we'll get the blankets from the linen closet for you two."

"Help yourselves to more tea and snacks while we do that," offered Chronus after chewing and swallowing his treat, "and Alan, if you're having any pain I can put together a nice herbal remedy for you. Oh, and if either of you fancy something stronger, the liquor cabinet is right over there in the corner. Make yourselves at home, lads."

"Thank you," said Eric. He freshened up his tea as the Undertaker followed his husband up the stairs to assist in preparing the spare room. The Scotsman turned to his companion and he sighed. "You know, after today I think I could use a good scotch. What about you, Al?"

"You know I don't like drinking." Alan shook his head, "If anything, just one small glass of wine. Feeling how drunk you get is more than enough of a buzz for me." he joked, then sighed and rested his head back against the couch, "I may turn in early tonight after dinner."

"I understand," assured Eric. "A little wine, it is. I think I see some Moscato in the cabinet."

He got up and went to said cabinet, fetching the bottle of Alan's favorite type of wine and a glass to pour his drink first. Once the sweet white half-filled the glass he'd selected, he procured the scotch and poured a glass for himself. He returned to the sofa, handed Alan's beverage to him and sat down next to him again. He started to say something, shook his head and downed his drink in one swallow.

* * *

 

"Well, I suppose I should get dinner started," announced Chronus with his hands on his hips, once he and Jase had finished preparing the guest room. "Why don't you keep our guests company while I cook, my dear?"

Jase nodded and kissed the reaper's cheek, "Make something nice," he smiled.

Even though Jase could cook, he had the habit of getting distracted and burning himself when he did so, so Chronus had taken over cooking completely. As nice as it was to have Jase make him something, he hated thinking of the burns he usually gave himself while doing so.

"I'm thinking a roast might be nice," said Chronus as he kissed him back. "I never bother when it's just the two of us, but I could take a trip to the market in the village down the road and fetch the ingredients. Mayhap you and the Slingphries could play some cards while I'm out. The snacks ought to keep everyone satisfied until dinner is ready. Is there any sort of meat you'd like for dinner that we don't already have in the icehouse?"

Jase shook his head, "It mostly tastes the same, anyway. No need for special treatment for me. Focus on what you and our guests will be enjoying."

He then turned and walked back into the sitting room, "Chronus is going to be starting on dinner after a quick trip into town." he explained.

Eric had just poured a second glass of scotch, and he smiled at the doll fondly. "Well, I'm not as good as Alan in the kitchen, but if he needs a helping hand, I've got two to spare."

Chronus came down and he took his hat off the rack before opening the door. "See you in a while, lovelies. It oughtn't take longer than a half an hour for me to return with the goods. I think I'll take the more direct route of teleportation to town, rather than hitch up the horse to the wagon."

Eric frowned. "You teleport directly into the settlement?"

"Of course not!" The mortician flipped his hat in the air before cramming it down onto his head. "There's a patch of trees just outside the village that I teleport to, whenever I'm in a rush to get something. I won't be long, now. Toodles!"

He waggled his fingers in farewell, created the portal and vanished through it with practiced skill.

* * *

 

The provincial village that he and Jase shopped at whenever they didn't want or need to make a trip to the big city was abuzz with news of the happenings in Paris. On every quaint little corner, men and women were gossiping about it. This only made it easier for the reaper to slip into the meat market before closing time and select a roast to take home for cooking. He decided to make another stop at the fresh produce stand, and he picked up some carrots and potatoes to add to the meal. Satisfied that he had everything he needed to make a delectable dinner for his guests and himself, the mortician started back up the path leading out of town.

It was then that he looked up at the darkening sky and saw something that gave him pause. It looked like a falling star, and it appeared to be making a beeline for the general area of his cottage.

"That's...interesting," he murmured, lifting his bangs with his free hand to try and see better. He squinted, trying to get a better glimpse of it.

* * *

 

Knowing that every drink he had affected his husband in a mild way, Eric refrained from drinking himself into a stupor, deliberately slowing down after his second scotch. He could have downed another three before the alcohol started to get to him, but he knew Alan didn't like the feeling of a drink buzz on top of his exhaustion, when he'd over-exerted himself. They were playing cards at the dining table and he'd just drawn another from the deck when he felt the presence. He looked at his partner quizzically, wondering if the drink was getting to him sooner than anticipated.

"Alan, do you feel that?"

"Feel what? The drinks you have been having?" Alan asked, lazily sipping his wine ever-so-slightly. He drank his slower when Eric was also drinking because it helped lesson the annoying tingle of a buzz. He never got drunk when Eric did, he just felt the buzz at most, which he was thankful for. Some things didn't need to be shared between spouses, and drunkenness was one of them.

Setting his glass down, he glanced over at Eric with a small smile, "Don't worry about me. I don't feel it yet. It's your turn, Love."

It was clear that, while not drunk, Alan was relaxed and his guard was down in hopes of saving energy.

Eric shook his head with a frown and he set his drink aside to stand up. "No, something else. It feels like..."

Like the celestial auras of the angels that had rampaged through Paris—only it was here now, getting closer and stronger by the moment. Eric called forth his scythe and he looked at Jase, paternal feelings of protection rising to the surface. The little Frenchman had become what he was because angels had attempted to purify him after contact with a demon, after all. Given what they'd been doing in the metropolis, it stood to reason that they were spreading out to 'cleanse' more humans and they might be drawn to him.

"Jase, go to the basement...now! Arm yourself and don't come out until one of us tells you it's safe. Alan, get your scythe ready, there's a—"

The front door of the cottage suddenly swelled and cracked, yellow light streaming in from outside. Seeing that Jase was immediately in the line of fire, Eric made a quick decision and launched himself at the doll, knocking him out of the way just as the door splintered and burst open. Jase was out of harm's way, but the move had put Eric in the path of the debris and shards of wood struck him, cutting his face in several places and tearing his clothes. When the dust settled, a winged figure could be seen standing in the open doorway, radiating light. His eyes glowed blue and his hair was long and golden, falling past his shoulders in yellow waves.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

"Yes, this is the place," said the angel. His loose, white garments fluttered as he stepped over the ruin of the door, his gaze going to the blindfolded doll getting back to his feet. Eric blocked his way before he could take a single step towards Jase. The angel stopped and narrowed his eyes at him. "Reaper, don't interfere. This creature is tainted and unnatural, and he must be purified."

"Who isn't 'tainted' in your eyes?" challenged Eric, ignoring the blood trickling from a cut on his forehead into his eye. "Jase, go. Alan?"

Alan was on his feet, gripping the long handle of his scythe and glaring at the intruder, "We have let you do as you want in Paris as we were ordered to, but this young man is off-limits!"

Jase stood stock-still, his eyes wide behind his protective blindfold as he stared at the glowing being. This was his second time laying eye upon an angel of the Lord… and he froze up with fear. His knees quaked, his clenched fists trembled… he couldn't move—couldn't think. All he could remember was the last time. The feel of a burning hand grabbing him and pulling him into a light so bright he couldn't see anything. The chanting, the fire being forced into his body that still burned at him… The heartlessness he found within God's so-called undying love for humankind…

He whimpered and stumbled back.

"JASE! GO!" Alan shouted.

The angel manifested two scimitars that glowed with a golden light, and he came at Eric in a sudden fury. Swearing, the reaper blocked the first low attack with his scythe and ducked beneath the next one, aimed at his throat.

"Feathered busy-bodies," he grunted, rolling aside and retaliating. The angel parried, but Eric's primary goal for now was to keep him distracted from Jase. "Fer a race tha' serves the Divine, yer awfully determined ta kill off its creations. Tha Old Testament's outdated an' this 'wrath of God', 'fire and brimstone' routine is gettin' stale!"

"Jase, come on!" Alan grabbed the doll's arm and pulled him away from the fight, taking advantage of Eric's distraction.

Jase snapped out of his stupor and followed Alan, flinging open the door to their cellar-basement and taking time to take the key from the outside of the door, locking it from the inside.

"Will Eric be okay?"

Alan nodded, "This isn't his first time taking on a feather-ball."

There was a crash as Eric was thrown across the room into a bookshelf, but the Scotsman shook it off and got back to his feet, smirking at the angel. "If ya think tha's enough ta keep me down, yer in fer disappointment."

He retaliated before the angel could even consider going after his fleeing partner and the doll they were trying to protect, slicing off some feathers in the process and kicking the angel hard enough to make him stagger. He spared a glance over his shoulder at his companions to be sure they made it out of the room, and then he cut loose.

* * *

 

When he felt his mate's sudden surge of anxiety, Chronus didn't waste another moment. He gathered the dark energy to create a portal back home and he jumped through it, somehow managing to hang on to his sack of goods while manifesting his death scythe. When he arrived at his cottage, he found the front door in pieces and he heard the ruckus of a battle going on inside. He recognized Eric's strained taunts and his heart lodged in his throat when he heard the otherworldly, inhuman shriek that followed. Dropping the groceries and tossing his hat to the lawn, he hurried inside to find Eric Slingby brawling with an angel in male form.

"Well, that was a rude entry," remarked the mortician. "Haven't you featherheads ever heard of knocking?"

"I'd appreciate a hand, Undertaker," grunted Eric, fighting to keep the glowing scimitars from slicing into his throat. The angel had him pinned against the wall, with the blades of his weapons criss-crossing the blond reaper's throat like scissors. Blood was already dripping from Eric's gloves where the blades had cut through them and into his hands.

"I assume you don't mean applause." Even Chronus had the sense to know that this was no time for jokes, though. An angel had broken into his home and attacked his guests—possibly his husband, too. He could sense Jase in the basement and he could only presume he was okay. Right now, he needed to deal with the intruder.

He walked up to the angel and he tapped him on the shoulder with a long black nail. "'Scuse me, but I can't let you just trot in here and cut off my guest's head."

The angel turned to glare at him, and he yanked one scimitar away from Eric's throat to slash at Chronus. He grinned and blocked it, but the smile was wiped from his face when one of the gigantic white wings slapped him across the room. He crashed into the coffee table and broke several teacups in the process.

"We just got those," complained the ancient with a grunt as he got back to his feet. "And we just got this place tidied up, too! Jase is going to have kittens."

"I dinnae think tha china is what ya should be worryin' about," panted Eric as he fended off the angel's other weapon.

"Right you are," agreed the older reaper.

He summoned a sotoba and hurled it at the angel, piercing him in the side. As he staggered, Eric swung his scythe and carved a bloody path down his thigh. The angel shrieked and buffeted Eric with his wings, forcing him to back off. The angel backed off too, it's blood smoking where it struck the wooden floors. He kept his weapons ready and he eyed the two advancing reapers warily as he walked backwards to the ruined doorway.

"Your abomination must be cleansed, reaper. This is not the end!"

Chronus frowned at that, and he leaped after the angel in an attempt to stop him. He was blinded by hot, white light and his efforts were rewarded with empty air. He crashed to the porch outside with an oaf, his prey now gone. Shaking his head to clear it, he got back to his feet with Eric's help and he blinked, half-blinded from the flash and tearing up.

"Might have been a scout," reasoned the ancient, wiping his eyes with a sleeve. He sighed and looked around. "Or he sensed Jase from all the way in Paris and came to investigate. Either way, he'll tell his friends and we can expect another visit. How is Jase, by the way? Is he hurt?"

Eric shook his head and banished his scythe, pressing his hands together to slow the bleeding. He adopted his British accent again when he spoke. "He hasn't been hurt. He's in the basement with Alan. As soon as the angel showed up, we got him out of harm's way."

Chronus nodded. "I'm grateful for that. Let's go in and bring them up. I hate to say it, but we might have to put our horse in the care of a neighbor and return to the Shinigami realm with you, for a while. I can fight off a few angels but not a host of them."

"Agreed." Eric looked at the older reaper contemplatively. "Do you think this was just happenstance, that those angels came down to wreak havoc in Paris and then one of them came here?"

The Undertaker wore an uncommonly grave look on his face as he looked to the skies. "Could be all of that was done just to find Jase, and one of them finally tracked him here. We do go into Paris frequently. Seems like a lot of trouble for them to go through, just to find one little doll."

"Who can guess the mind of an angel, besides one of their own?" sighed Eric. He turned away to go inside and fetch his husband and Jase. Chronus stayed a moment longer, before following him.

"Oh thank Rhea." Alan ran to greet Eric after unlocking the door, having sensed that Eric was no longer fighting, "I was about to go up there to help you…"

"Chronus!" Jase hugged his lover, still quite shaken from seeing an angel again. He glanced over at Eric, "…You're hurt…"

He bit his lip and walked over, "Here, let me help."

"I'm all right," Eric insisted as both Jase and Alan began to fuss over him. "Most of it's from the door when Featherbrain blew it open. See? It's already healing."

He winced when he opened his cut hands, looking down at the ruined, blood gloves. "Except those. The angel's scimitars did that. Looks like they aren't going to heal as fast."

"No, angelic weapons have similar properties to our death scythes." Chronus gently ushered Jase and Alan aside so that he could have a look. "It will still heal faster than a wound from a scythe, but it does need medical attention. Come along to the table over here and let's get these gloves off to have a look. I'll doctor them up a bit before we go. We at least need to clean them and bind them, and once we get to the Shinigami realm you can go to the infirmary and have them give more extensive care."

Jase shook his head, "I can help him…I've been practicing." He reminded his lover, "And since this is a holy would…it has a chance to not take as much out of me compared to the scythe wound I healed of yours."

He looked up at Eric. The man and Alan still knew nothing of his angelic-given abilities that came from the fire that was burning within him, "This may burn a little… but based on how Chronus heals, the burns will heal faster on you. And this is the least I could do for you fighting to protect me…"

He took Eric's hands in his own, placing his over the worst of the cuts and closing his eyes to concentrate. Seconds later, a faint glow appeared and burns began to form over the cuts on Eric's hands, and as it did so, cuts identical to what had been on Eric's hands formed on Jase's, scorch marks forming around the wounds and small flames of white licking them away as his body heat rose.

Eric stared down at his hands with amazement as Jase released them, flexing his fingers. The gloves were still ruined, but the cuts on the skin beneath were closed; with only minor burns to mark the experience. He stared at Jase in wonderment. "How long have ya been able ta do this, lad?"

Chronus stepped up behind his spouse and put his hands on his shoulders protectively, supporting him should he feel faint. "Possibly since he was first turned, but he didn't discover the ability until I started to succumb to injuries I sustained while fighting off Dispatch agents. Before either of you get pissy for our failure to mention it, bear in mind that neither of us knew you very well when the trial began and if Dispatch learned that he could do this, the chances of them releasing him were even slimmer."

"Ya were just tryin' ta protect him," said Eric with a shrug. "An' tha's what we all want, I think."

The ancient nodded, and he bent over his small lover to speak into his ear. "I didn't know you were practicing that, love."

"That's because you only get minor injuries that heal quickly. It's hard to practice, but I found little ways… mostly on small things." He smiled up at his lover, "It heats my body up a little faster, but I like knowing I could be of help in some way. I can't fight on the same level as you and other immortal beings, but I can heal."

"Well, it's an amazing ability. Just be careful with it. It looked like you take it into your own body and then let holy flames burn them away, and that can be dangerous for you if it's too serious an injury. You could overheat and burn yourself away." Alan said.

Chronus nodded with agreement. "Indeed. As curious as I've been to see how much you could do with that, Jase, I'd hate to come home and find my dollie a pile of ash." He embraced him from behind and kissed him on the temple, before straightening up. "We'd best begin packing. I don't want to wait around here to see how many more of those sandaled shits might come calling. We can leave our horse with the neighbors down the road, until we can return. They'll take good care of her."

Jase nodded, "…But how long will it take to be safe to return?" he questioned, "Angels don't seem the type to give up, and if I'm their real target…could we really return?"

"We need to gather more information," answered Chronus. "Until we know exactly what's going on, I can't say what's going to happen with our home."

He sighed and looked around at the basement; his apothecary lab and their storage area. "Just when we'd settled in and found peace. Believe me, I'd rather stay here than return to that sinkhole I came from, my dear. The Shinigami realm is the one place I know they can't come looking for us though; not unless they go against their own God. We'll be safe there for a time, as long as you keep your abilities discreet and don't give Dispatch a reason to want to study you again."

"Alan and I will do our best to find out what's going on," offered Eric, once again switching back to the British dialect he used when not in the company of friends or alone with his partner. "It could be that one of them just got separated from the rest and he sensed Jase and came to investigate."

"Even if that's the case, he got away," reminded Undertaker. "His friends will want to investigate, and with any luck they won't burn this place to the ground once they find it empty."

Eric frowned and sighed. "I'm sorry he got away. A few of those angels fell in Paris to the demons they were fighting. He might have been written off as another casualty, if he hadn't escaped us."

"Don't blame yourself, chap," advised Chronus. "I was here too and he slipped past both of us. Barn door...horse and all that. Let's worry about making ourselves scarce, shall we?"

Alan gave a small nod and patted Undertaker's shoulder, "We'll do what we can for you two. You can stay with us while in the realm. We still have the guest room clean and set up from when Jase was living with us. The freezer just needs to be plugged in again should Jase wish to use it."

"Thank you. I'll go start packing things we need from around the house." Jase grabbed a bag from a box in the corner and hurried up the steps to start packing clothes.

Chronus stared after him with a grin, shaking his head slightly. "Adaptive little fellow, isn't he? Here one moment and gone the next. I suppose his initiative means he isn't feeling worn out from his healing efforts."

"Thank Rhea," sighed Eric. "I'd have felt awful if he overheated because of me."

Chronus shrugged. "He loves you...both of you. My dollie has a big heart, always putting others before himself." He grimaced a little and looked down at his hands, curling his long fingers. "Makes a body wonder what he's doing with the likes of me, eh?"

Eric laughed softly and shook his head, tossing a wink at Alan. "I've learned not to question good fortune. Maybe the rogues of the world need the boy scouts to keep us in line, aye?"

"It's true. I'd hate to see where Eric would be if he and I never got together." Alan smiled, "He was so wild and out of control at times…just asking for trouble…especially with the secretaries at the office."

The brunet looked at Undertaker, "I'm with Eric because I love him. Jase is with you because he loves you."

"And aren't we both lucky for that." The Undertaker grinned, and then a frown immediately tugged at his lips. "Oh, bugger! I dropped the groceries outside. If you gents will excuse me, I'll go and collect them. We can at least salvage a decent meal out of this mess, once we get to your hearth."

He was up the stairs and gone like a ghost before either of the younger reapers could respond. Eric looked at his partner and he chuckled again, gingerly tugging his ruined gloves off of his hands. "Well, this ought to be interesting. We've never had the Undertaker as a guest before."

Alan chuckled, "No, but it'll be nice having Jase back for a time." He took one of Eric's hands in his own and examined it, "…It's an amazing ability…these burns are already healing quickly compared to what the cuts would have…"

"Aye, it'll be nice havin' him back again," agreed Eric. He leaned towards his spouse and brushed his lips against his temple. "An' we'd better keep what we've learned to ourselves, for his sake. By the way...I love you. Haven't said so today, yet."

"Mmh, I love you too." Alan kissed Eric and slipped his arm around Eric's waist, "Lets go help our guests pack. The sooner we leave, the sooner Jase is safe."

* * *

 

William sat beside Ronald's infirmary bed, waiting for him to regain consciousness. He'd been struck hard by a falling cinderblock during their assigned task in Paris, just after William gave Eric leave for him and Alan to stay the night at the Undertaker's cottage. The doctors said it was only a mild concussion, but William kept glancing at his young lover with veiled concern. He itched to wake him up, but they'd warned him against it. Head injuries healed better with rest, they said, even with reapers. Had he been human, the blow might have killed Ronald. He'd awoken for a short time after they brought him in, but he fell asleep shortly after that.

William had only a passing knowledge in medicine, and he knew that with some head injuries you weren't supposed to go to sleep. The medical team assured him that Ronald would be better off doing so, however. He dragged his fingers through his dark hair and he looked at the clock again, drumming the fingers of his free hand on his knee. He had reports to give and papers to file, but they could wait.

Ronald stirred, and William felt an immediate rush of relief as the boy groaned and turned over in his bed, complaining about the pillow. "Calmly now, Ronald," he murmured, leaning over to put a hand on his shoulder. "You are in the infirmary. You were struck by a falling piece of debris."

"…'splains the shitty pillow…" The blond mumbled, his words severely muffled into the sack of feathers he had his face shoved into. He fell silent then, laying still and simply breathing for a good few minutes. He then shifted his hand, finding William's sleeve and grabbing hold the fabric, "…I feel like shit…" he finally muttered.

The brunet's mouth quirked with amusement-tinged relief. "Well, part of a building did fall on you. Sit still, and I shall call the nurse to have a look at you."

He pressed the buzzer and he stroked Ronald's shoulder in an uncommon gesture of comfort. "You took your time waking up, Knox. I was beginning to get...concerned."

He'd never been the best at expressing his affection.

"If a building fell on me I think I deserve to sleep in longer than normal…" He mumbled, turning his head to the side and opening his eyes, "Uhg, bright." He snapped them shut quickly.

William dimmed the light over his hospital bed. "There. Better?"

"Thanks…" He mumbled , slowly easing his eyes open, "Remind me not to get hit with buildings anymore…"

The brunet raised a brow. "I did warn you to watch out for falling debris, but you got reckless as usual and got caught up in the fun of it. How many times must I remind you that reaping isn't a game? You might have been killed."

He snapped his mouth shut and looked away, compressing his lips. As a man unaccustomed to displaying emotions of any sort, he struggled with his feelings. Somehow this frustrating young reaper had endeared himself to him in more than one way. What started as curiosity and sexual attraction had evolved into something else, during the course of their relationship. They had been dating since the Undertaker's trial some eight years ago, and every time Ronald did something reckless and narrowly avoided death or serious injury, William felt this awful surge of desperation that he couldn't explain.

Against his better judgment, he'd begun to analyze the relationship between Alan and Eric, as well as Jase and Undertaker. He pondered the nature of their bond, wondering what it would be like to be so connected to one's romantic partner, and he was chagrined to admit to himself that the more he examined it, the more appealing it became.

Ron grabbed his hand, "I love you, too. I promise I don't get reckless just to be reckless…I just can't help it at times." He was young, and he knew he made a lot of foolish mistakes, and he knew William worried, and his lectures were all because he loved the reckless blond reaper, whether it was about his performance on the field or his drinking habits after work.

William flushed ever so slightly, returning the pressure of the grasping hand. "I would...court you with more grace if I could. You've learned to read me better than most."

The words came awkwardly to him, but he felt his lover deserved at least a token effort of affection. He could never be as doting a partner and attentive as Eric and the Undertaker; it simply wasn't in his nature—but he believed it was important to let Ronald know he meant something to him now and then, even if he couldn't bring himself to spout off romantic proclamations on a whim.

"I know." Ronald gave a small grin, "You suck at saying it out-right…but you know how to show it, and from you, that means more than if you did just say it. Even if no one else can tell the difference, I can, and that's what matters to me." He paused, "And not to mention it helps keep things secret so you don't get into trouble at work for banging your junior." He snickered.

William sighed, but he couldn't bring himself to muster any real frustration. "Must you always be so crude, Ronald?"

A nurse came in to check on the blond, and William released his hand and sat back to give her room. "Well, look who's awake again," she said with a smile. "How are you feeling, Mr. Knox?"

"Like absolute shit... apparently I got hit with a building?" he commented bluntly, shifting his gaze from William to the nurse, "How talented am I to achieve that?" he added as a joke.

She chuckled and began to check his vital signs, raising the bed up a little so that she could examine his eyes and take his pulse. "More than most. Supervisor Spears told us that you were lucky a bigger chunk didn't fall on you. Are you feeling up for some visitors?"

"That depends on who these visitors are. Don't feel up to dealing with the clingy ones."

"Your supervisor already turned Mr. Sutcliff away," she said with a smirk in William's direction, "but Mr. Humphries and Mr. Slingby arrived a little while ago and asked about you. Can I send them in before dinner, or would you rather have them come back in the morning?"

"Now is fine if it's them." He nodded, "But definitely the food idea….and something for this headache…"

Ron smirked as she nodded and turned to go tell the couple they could go in, his eyes shifting to William, "Wouldn't mind a kiss from my boyfriend, either."

With a glance at the door to be certain it was closed, William got up and bent down to comply with his request. He tried to make it quick, but the moment Ronald's lips touched his he was lost in it. He deepened the kiss, and before he could draw back the door opened again and Eric Slingby walked in, followed by his husband Alan. The Scotsman stopped and raised his brows as William hastily withdrew from Ronald, his face blooming with color.

"I suppose you're going to tell us you were just giving him mouth-to-mouth, Sir?" Eric smiled crookedly and winked, recovering from his surprise. To his husband, he whispered: "I knew it."

Ronald grinned, clearly pleased with the kiss. He hadn't meant for them to get caught, but he wasn't about to deny that he didn't enjoy it none-the-less.

Alan smirked, "Oh come now, Eric, Give them credit. They did a very good job at hiding it for the past few years. We only had suspicions because Ronald talks in his sleep once in a while including that time you brought him home drunk with you."

William gave Ronald an accusing look. "Indeed. Well, at least you tried to keep it to yourself when conscious, Knox." He wondered how much the boy had said while he was blacked out from his head wound. He didn't recall hearing him mutter in his sleep much while he was watching over him, but he'd left the room more than once to take care of basic body functions and eat. The thought of one of the medical staff overhearing it while he was away made his eye twitch.

"Begging your pardon sir," interjected Eric, cutting into his thoughts, "but speaking from personal experience, putting so much energy into keeping a meaningful relationship secret can wear on you, after a while."

The Scotsman shrugged and put an arm around his spouse. "You can't enjoy the things other couples do, when you're always on the lookout for someone that might notice you've become more than friends. It was exciting the first year we were together, treating it like some forbidden romance and keeping Al all to myself...but we could never express our true feelings for each other outside the privacy of our homes. Couldn't hold hands in public, couldn't send a gift to him in his office on Valentine's day...he's never been an advocate of public shows of affection, but I couldn't even do the little things that other couples could. Nobody really gave us hassle when we decided to take the vows and come out in the open with it. Maybe it would be better for you both if you stopped trying to hide it. Reapers fall for each other on the job all the time, you know."

"You two are coworkers," reminded William with a sigh. "I am Ronald's superior, and I mentored him as well. People may not be so understanding."

Eric relaxed his embrace on Alan and he crossed his arms over his chest challengingly. "What's more important to you; your relationship with Ronald or what people might think of it? Am I right, Alan?"

"Besides, if people know about you two, Ronald would have less secretaries hanging off him throughout the day, asking him for dates." Alan pointed out, "The jealousy eats away at you, even if you try to suppress it…trust me. It was the same way with Eric."

Ronald rubbed his neck, "I'm only shutting my trap about it for Will's sake. I could care less if the world knows or not."

William looked at his lover again, uncertainty stirring in his breast. He couldn't deny their observations and yes, he suffered horrible inner jealousy whenever the ladies in General Affairs and other departments tried to catch Ronald's eye. It was in the young man's nature to flirt back, too. He never asked any of them on dates of course, and he always turned them down when they tried to ask him on one as well. Still, it took every ounce of fortitude William possessed to avoid stepping between Ronald and those women and informing them that he was off limits.

This had been going on for years now. As concerned as he was over what it might do to his career, he had to admit there was some appeal to the idea of finally making it known to the world that Ronald Knox was his and his alone. The blond had been remarkably patient with him about it, conceding to his wishes that they keep their relationship secret. William often wondered how much longer it would be before Ronald got tired of hiding and finally gave him an ultimatum. It was only out of love for him that he continued to do so, after all.

"I will...consider it," he said uneasily. They had been fortunate so far, but it was getting increasingly difficult for him to keep pretending that Ronald was only a coworker to him.

"We could still be sneaky in your office." Ronald grinned, "That will  _always_  be an adventure to see if we can keep quiet~"

A tiny smirk adorned William's lips. "You always fail that challenge."

"Not my fault! You feel too good." Ronald protested.

William cleared his throat and flushed a bit as Eric burst into laughter. When he gave the Scotsman an admonishing look, Eric spread his hands. "Ye stepped inta tha' one," he excused, his voice thickening with his native accent. He put his arm around Alan again and he dared to nuzzle his hair affectionately. "It's no' as bad as ya might think, ta 'come out' from hiding yer relationship, sir. People are more understandin' than ye give 'em credit for. Yer too good an administrator fer them ta demote ya o'er fallin' in love wi' yer coworker...trust me."

The brunet cast an uncertain glance Ronald's way. "Possibly. I suppose we'll find out."

Eric's brows went up. "Than are ya thinkin' of going for it, boss?"

William sighed, weighing his options. After being with him for this long, he'd come to the realization that he'd rather lose his job than Ronald. "Perhaps it's time we stop trying to hide it. While I have no plans to throw a party and make a public announcement, I see no reason to keep up the farce. Ronald, I presume you are okay with this?"

He looked at his lover questioningly, uncommonly hesitant.

"No coming out party? Awe man, that'd be the best party to have!" Ronald joked, wincing in pain from his headache. "Nah, I'm fine with people knowing you are all mine and I'm all yours, Will. Plus it'd be nice to tell them secretaries that I'm taken and off limits rather than simply turning them down on date ideas."

William could certainly see the benefit in that. He looked at their guests with questioning eyes. "I thought you two were going to be visiting with the Undertaker and his spouse for a couple of days?"

Eric and Alan exchanged a look. "We were," answered the blond, "but we were attacked by one of tha angels involved in tha Paris mess, and Undertaker decided he'd rather they come and stay here in our realm for a while than stay at home. He's worried they'll come for Jase because o' wha' he is."

"Wha?" Ronald grunted and pushed himself up into a sitting position, but slumped when his head spun. "But doesn't he already have their fire in him burning him away? Why would they target him?"

"If I were to venture a guess," said William thoughtfully, "it's  _because_  he has that holy fire inside that they were able to sense him. Mortals aren't meant to possess the powers of the Divine."

"What powers? It'll kill him if he forgets to dunk himself into an ice bath every so often. Not like he has special abilities like making holy weapons or what-not." Ronald muttered.

Alan shifted slightly, "Well, the angel was quite intent on finishing off Jase. I'd hate to think of what would have happened to him had Eric and I not been there—Undertaker had made a run out to a nearby town at the time and Jase froze up when he saw the angel."

"Interesting." William frowned in thought and walked over to the window overlooking the reaper metropolis below. "Is the boy unharmed?"

"He's fine," assured Eric. "Just a bit shaken."

Eric looked at his mate, and possibilities formed in his mind. "There's more, sir. It isna' just tha holy fire...it's what he can do wi' it. He can use it ta heal injuries. I got cut up pretty bad in tha fight, and Jase laid his hands over my wounds and closed 'em jus' like that. We'd appreciate it if ya didnae go spreadin' that information around, though. I'm only telling ya because it may fall on us ta protect the lad, if the angels are really after him."

William cast a sharp glance Alan's way, his brows furrowing. "Is this true, Mr. Humphries, or is your husband exaggerating?"

"It's true. I watched it happen. But I believe that is all he can do with it." He nudged his husband to have him show his hands. The burns left from the healing still a little noticeable, "There had been holy weapon cuts on his hands before Jase healed them."

"Dang, is he the new Jesus or something?" Ron joked.

Eric laughed. "Careful who ya say that in front of, lad." He held his palms open for William to inspect as the brunet crossed back over the room to have a look. "Aye, they were in poor shape, before tha Frenchman did his trick."

"I see." William frowned with mild surprise, and he adjusted his glasses. "And they are both at your home?"

"Yes sir," answered Eric with a nod, "and I hope ye'll take it inta consideration that we promised to keep it hush-hush. I'm sure we dinnae have to explain why."

"No need," agreed William with a sigh. "While this puts me in a difficult position as the supervisor of our division, I don't see how any good can come of informing the board of this, right now. We need to discover what the angels were truly after when they attacked Paris, and how much of a threat they might pose to our establishment. We certainly can't allow them to run rampant, can we?"

"No sir," agreed Eric with a grim nod. He put an arm around Alan. "And I think Al would agree wi' me when I say they'll have ta go through us, if they mean any harm ta Jase."

Alan nodded in agreement, "He's like family to us…Chronus, too as he is mated with Jase."

"I've noticed." William looked at Ronald. "I trust you'll keep this information to yourself as well. Once they're released you and you have recovered, I expect you to put all your effort into assisting with this investigation. In the meantime, however..."

He hesitated, his gaze sliding to their associates. He'd never dared to show affection for Ronald in front of others before, but Alan and Eric knew their secret now. Operating on the curious urge to act as a lover outside the bedroom, the supervisor did something that surprised even him; he bent down to plant a soft kiss against Ronald's parted lips.

Eric's brows shot up and he grinned, nudging his partner gleefully.

Ronald also acted in surprise, but then grinned into the kiss and sliding an arm around his lover's shoulders, "Haven't I already proven I can keep secrets? I won't say anything about the Jesus-like Doll." He confirmed.

"Good." William broke the kiss, flushing a little in reaction to the uncommon display in front of others. "Just rest, for now. I'll pay a visit to the Undertaker and Jase, and we'll discuss our options in dealing with this. So far our superiors have not ordered a special investigation, but we are still sorting out and filing all of the collected records. I'm certain they will want answers, eventually, and I would rather have some available to them before they ask...without revealing Mr. Dubois' hidden talents, of course."

"Fiiiine, leave me here all alone with my headache." Ronald said with a teasingly over-dramatic tone.

"I could arrange for that nurse to come and sit with you," offered William with a straight face. "The rotund one that had such a crush on you, when you last came in for a physical. What was her name again? Gretta? I understand she volunteered to sponge bathe you if you need it."

"Please, no." Ronald groaned, "I took her on one date years ago and she never stopped harassing me since!"

"Thats what you get for taking every cute girl you see out on a date like you used to." Alan pointed out, "Eric and I have been together for more than a few years and we aren't hiding it and he still has a few people he used to casually date coming up to him." By his tone, it was clear the brunet was jealous when such things happened. He trusted Eric-but didn't trust the men and women that thought Eric was still available to them. More than once he had snapped and chased one of them off with the stick-end of his scythe-much to Eric's amusement.

Eric chuckled and kissed the smaller man on the cheek. "They might try ta fish, but I ne'er bite."

William could relate, and the thought of forming an unbreakable commitment with Ronald became even more appealing. The charming young man had admirers all over the place, much like Eric, and if Alan still had issues with people respecting his claim on his husband, how much worse would it get with Ronald? William's temper had limits, and though he was only subtly teasing about bringing that nurse to him, he really didn't like the thought of her trying to grope Ronald while he was out.

"Well this has been a charming discussion," he finally said after stifling his possessive feelings a bit, "but I have questions that need answering and we have research to attend to. Ronald, I shall return later tonight to check in on you. Do try to cooperate with the hospital staff...within reason."

Ronald grinned, "Jealous, Will?" he took William's hand, "Don' worry, you know I'm not into that casual stuff anymore. And if you are serious about coming out of the closet—as it were—then I'll tell them 'I have a boyfriend' rather than 'I don't do casual dating anymore'."

William debated inwardly, his gaze flicking to Eric and Alan. The couple were both nodding at him encouragingly, and he pushed his misgivings aside and returned the pressure of Ronald's hand. "I would...like that."

"His face might explode soon," observed Eric in a whisper to his spouse when he saw the struggle of expressions flitting over their supervisor's visage. "I think that's tha most expressive I've ever seen him get."

"Shh, Eric, manners." Alan stated in a hushed voice.

"Then that's what I'll start telling people." Ronald nodded, "Still…don't be long—I hate hospitals."

"Just endure it until you've been cleared for release," advised William. "They've assured me that you should be ready to go home by tomorrow, if your test results come back good. Just rest and do as the medics tell you."

He straightened up and nodded at their companions. "Gentlemen, shall we?"

Eric made the 'death' sign and walked to the door with Alan. William paused at the door and looked over his shoulder at Ronald one last time. "I look forward to having you return to work...and to my side."

Ronald smirked and winked, "And in your bed, I'm sure." He said, sticking his tongue out teasingly.

"Undoubtedly," agreed William with a nod, letting his conservative nature slip one last time. "I'll see you soon, Ronald."

Ron waved and sighed, sliding back down against the pillows, "Hey, tell someone I'd like pain killers as you leave."

* * *

 

Undertaker looked up from the steak he was preparing when he heard the front door open. He immediately recognized the auras of the reapers entering the apartment, and he relaxed. "Welcome home, chaps," he called out. I'm in the kitchen preparing dinner."

Eric was the first to make it into the kitchen and he greeted the mortician with a wave and a smile. "Where's the lad at?"

"Napping," answered Chronus. "He was feeling a bit overheated, so I cooled him off and coaxed him to have a rest while I take care of dinner. No cracks about my turning into a housewife, Eric."

The Scotsman spread his hands and chuckled. "Wouldnae think of it."

Undertaker transferred the seasoned, uncooked meat to the cooler and returned his attention to the cabbage on the stove. "Hello again, Mr. Spears," he said as he stirred the pot and then checked the corned beef baking in the oven. "It's been a while."

William stepped into the kitchen with Alan. "Good evening. I apologize for intruding, but I would like to discuss the incident with the angels with you and your spouse."

"Thought as much." Chronus poked the meat to test it, and he shut the oven and removed his apron. "There's enough for everyone, if you'd like to discuss it over dinner. Alan, Eric, is that all right by you? Jase ought to be rested enough to have a chat, once the meal is ready."

"Fine by me," agreed Eric.

Alan nodded, "It'd be rude not to be, seeing as we tore him away from what he'd rather be doing right now so close to supper." He looked at William, "You are welcome to stay—and take any leftovers back to the hospital with you. Trust me, the hospital's food is rather bland. I'm sure he'd prefer this."

"You are most gracious," said William politely.

"Would ya like a drink, sir?" offered Eric.

William nearly declined, but it had been a harrowing two days. "Please. Port, if you have it."

"Coming right up. Al, would ye mind helping out Chronus while I pour some drinks? I'll bring ya both wha'ever ya want."

"Hmm, a brandy for me," decided the mortician thoughtfully, sucking a bit of juice off his finger from the corned beef. "Alan, be a love and keep an eye on that cabbage while I go and check on Jase, would you?"

"Of course." Alan nodded, taking over the task of cooking. "I do hope he wasn't too overly heated."

Jase lay on the bed in the guest room where he and Chronus were set up. The nearby window open to let in the cool breeze which shifted his hair slowly. He was resting, but not sleeping and when the door opened, he opened his eyes, smiling, "Is dinner ready?"

Chronus approached the bed and he sank down gracefully on the edge of it. He reached out to stroke Jase's hair and he returned his smile. "Nearly. Mr. Spears will be joining us for our meal. He wants to discuss the angelic attack in Paris, and what happened at our cottage."

He leaned over the doll and kissed him softly. "Stay within your comfort zone, love. You don't have to say more than you want to. I think the stuffy chap has loosened up a bit. He might not push you but if he does, I'll set him straight."

Jase frowned slightly, "He's a good man…but he comes off so cold…" he rolled onto his back and sat up, "He works too much."

The reaper smirked. "Hmph. An observation shared by just about everyone I know who's met him. You've gained a talent for reading Shinigami as well as humans, though. If you can see enough to know he's a good person, then I guess there's no real harm in having a talk with him, is there?"

"The whole time you were in jail, I was living with reapers. I got used to them. Reapers aren't all that different from humans, after all. I'm fine with talking to him—as long as the annoying red one is not around."

Jase still held a grudge against Grell Sutcliff, and he made no attempt to hide that he held no respect for him.

Chronus laughed and put an arm around him. "That one won't be coming around you again anytime soon, if I can help it. Do you feel good enough to join us now, love? Dinner could be another ten minutes or so, but we could socialize a bit until it's ready."

He nodded and reached out for his blindfold to slip it on before they walked out of the dark room into the more well-lit areas of the house.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

William was cordial as always, but rather aloof. He did try to be more engaging with his hosts and their guests; particularly Jase, because he wanted to hear from him how his healing abilities worked. Dinner was served and Eric refreshed everyone's beverages as they sat down. Knowing how protective the Undertaker was and how wary Jase was of Dispatch in general, William did his best to be friendly. He wasn't about to overdo it; everyone present knew what he was like. If they wanted jokes and easy smiles, he wasn't the man to deliver it.

"So, Jase," William said as he put some butter on his cabbage, "Your hosts have informed me that you have a rather remarkable healing ability."

Undertaker immediately stopped shaking salt over his vegetables, and he gave the couple an unusually irritated look. Eric winced, but he didn't try to deny it. "Sorry you two; its jus' that we needed at least William to know, seein' as he's heading tha investigation an' all. If those angels mean ta come after Jase again, more allies on yer side willnae hurt."

He used his fabricated British accent less and less these days, thanks to the gentle encouragement of his mate and friends. Formal occasions were one thing, but when he was off the clock or on assignment with Alan, he could let go and be himself.

Undertaker smirked ruefully and looked at William. "Keep it under your collar, then. I don't want Dispatch trying to bring Jase in for study."

"Nor do I," assured the supervisor. "But I would like to understand how it works, from his own lips. I doubt this was a talent he came by upon becoming a doll, Undertaker."

"No," agreed the mortician. "Although I think his altered physiology is probably what allows him to channel the holy fire the way he does. An ordinary human would combust on the spot."

William took a sip of his drink and he nodded at Jase. "Will you explain it to me?"

"I'm…not sure I can, sir." Jase said, shifting awkwardly in his seat, "The first time I did it, it was instinct. I was trying to save Chronus after the incident in Germany. After we…magically got away he collapsed from his wounds. I was scared and…it just happened."

He glanced at his lover before looking back at the other three reapers at the table, "Trying to do it again proved difficult. To me it seems more a mental state ability. I began practicing on injured animals…starting with a bird with a broken wing. But I have gotten to know how to concentrate on it and block out distractions.

"I can tell you how it seems to work, though…" he looked down at his hands, "It's like I trade my health for theirs. I bring an injury or illness into my body, the only marks left on them are minor burns. Then the fire inside me flairs up, burning it away. Illnesses are harder to cure…uses more energy and causes more heat…"

William's brows knit subtly with interest. "So this ability of yours can pose a real danger to you, when you use it."

Eric frowned and looked at his partner. For a moment he had hoped...but no, he could never endanger Jase that way, and neither would Alan.

Jase nodded, "I have to be careful with it."

"Absolutely," agreed Chronus, "and I'm usually the last fellow to preach caution. Someone pass the butter, thanks."

Eric passed it to him, amused by his ability to eat so heartily without putting on extra weight. "Where d'ya put it all, man?"

"Hollow scythe," mumbled the ancient around a bite of meat. He chewed and swallowed before wiping his mouth. "Mr. Spears, it's a fair certainty that the angels know about Jase by now, if they didn't know before. I don't set foot on this plain unless I have to. I'll do my best to assist with this investigation, as long as I know you'll keep what you've learned here to yourself and do your best to help safeguard Jase."

William looked at the doll, and he nodded solemnly. "You have my word. The angels responsible for the carnage in Paris may not even know of your spouse's healing abilities. However, if their reason for attacking the city was to locate and capture him, then we need to take steps to prevent it from happening again. Hundreds of lives were cut short before their time, in that attack. Several weren't due to pass for a decade or more."

"…There were children…" Alan muttered as he looked down, "Lives who hadn't yet had a real chance to live."

Jase looked up and frowned, "Is there anything that can be done to make sure they do not attack like that again?"

William hesitated. "That would depend on their primary motivation for attacking the city. Forgive me for speaking frankly, but if they are willing to slaughter everyone with a demon's taint in a metropolis, it stands to reason that very few humans are safe. It is difficult to believe they would do such just to search for one lone person imbued with their holy fire, but then I can't imagine them taking kindly to the idea of a non-angel wielding their powers."

"Well, they can just keep searching," stated Eric firmly.

"I don't like the innocent getting hurt and dying just because God's Angels aren't happy that I have their light inside me!" Jase stated firmly.

"Of course you don't," soothed Undertaker. He reached out to pat the doll's hand, clenched into a fist on the table. "But this is hardly your fault, my sweet little love. If they're so narcissistic that the mere thought of someone else having use of their light gets their togas into a bunch, it's all on them. You didn't ask for this...not any of it. They buggered up by filling you with that light and I...well, I can't say I buggered up by keeping you from death, because I think the world's a better place for it. I know I'm a better chap because of you."

Eric nodded. "They've only got themselves ta blame fer it. You should nae have ta pay fer their folly, lad."

"Indeed," agreed William gracefully, "if this was all brought about by their attempt to rectify their own incompetence, you can hardly blame yourself. I've never personally considered angels to be the most logical of divine beings; they think in absolutes and cannot control their passions."

Eric snorted. "Sounds a bit like Grell."

William adjusted his glasses and sipped his port. "Heavens, I shudder to think of Grell Sutcliff as an angel. As if he isn't enough trouble as a reaper."

Undertaker snorted. "Well now, Willy made a funny! I knew you had to have a sense of humor buried somewhere in that suit of yours, chap."

"Do you see me laughing?" William smirked slightly, however. "And do refrain from calling me 'Willy', sir."

Jase looked down. It may not be his fault that angels had attacked him as they did…but he was still their reason for attacking Paris, if their theory was correct. He'd gladly give up the light if he knew how…or, if he could. It may be permanently part of his being, now.

"Grell's too messy to fit in with the Angels. He likes to bathe the streets in blood; Angels like things clean and orderly. Imagine them getting blood on their robes." Alan pointed out, then smirked, "In that aspect William is more Angel-like."

"Please do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of them," sniffed William as he speared a piece of corned beef with his fork.

"Bit of a racist, aren't you?" Chronus pointed out. "Seems reapers are the only kind you don't hold in contempt, Mr. Spears."

"Not true," argued the supervisor. "I can respect mortals to a point, and Mr. Dubois here has proven himself quite worthy of respect as well. I can honestly say that I have never met a demon or angel that doesn't wear on my nerves, however."

"He's got plenty o' contempt for some reapers, too," Eric pointed out with a grin, before taking a hearty bite of cabbage.

William shrugged. "Certain reapers, yes." He placed his modest bite of food in his mouth and chewed carefully before swallowing and wiping his lips. "My compliments to the chefs. This is lovely."

Undertaker beamed and winked at Alan. "We make quite the culinary team."

"I don't do anything; I simply watched it to make sure nothing burned while you went to get Jase." The modest brunet stated.

"Ah, but I've had your cooking before," insisted Chronus. "And Jase told me about how you taught him how to make some of the lovely dishes he's made for me, since he can't taste them himself to test the seasoning and whatnot."

Eric nodded. "Al's a great cook. So are you, though." He resumed shoveling his dinner into his mouth.

"I'm frankly surprised you can tell," William said dryly. "You've barely spared a moment to taste it."

"When it comes to Eric…eating fast means he likes it. If he doesn't he barely touches it." Alan stated, "We don't eat out often anymore because of that."

"He didn't eat much when I was first learning to use my nose to cook, either." Jase pointed out.

"…You were only a little heavy on the salt once or twice…you got better, Jase." Alan said, patting his shoulder.

"Mm," mumbled Eric with a nod. He washed his food down with a swallow of the water he'd switched to. "Tha' he did. I wasnae much better when I first started tryin' ta cook."

"All I could do was bake cookies," confessed the Undertaker with a smirk. "I got bloody good at that, though."

"I admit I would be likely to poison myself by accident, if I attempted to cook my own meals." William raised his glass, loosened up a bit from the port he'd drunk so far. "Cheers."

"Don't expect Knox to cook for you, then. I watched him set a pot of water on fire once." Alan chuckled, raising his glass.

"Knox..? Oh that young blond reaper always running around trying to avoid overtime?" Jase asked.

"That's right," said William with a nod of acknowledgement as the others raised their glasses to his toast. "He was there during the trial."

"He's in the hospital right now," Eric explained. "Got a pretty heavy bump on tha head while he was reapin' in Paris. Part of a building came down on him."

"Ouch," said Chronus. "I knew he was hospitalized, but I forgot to ask why. Nothing too serious, eh?"

William shook his head. "No, he will be fine with rest...and trust me when I say resting is a thing that he excels at. I will be stopping by the infirmary to check in on him when I leave here."

"Like Alan said, take some leftovers for him," offered Eric.

"Yes, indeed," agreed Chronus with a nod. "Give the boy my regards...and tell him to watch out for falling buildings, in the future." He grinned.

William smirked a little. "I have already lectured him about paying attention, but I'll be certain to relay the message."

"Part of a building fell on him…and he's awake already?" Jase asked, "You reapers heal quickly…head injuries are a serious thing for humans."

Alan laughed, "Yes, well, we are death itself. It takes something much more dangerous to leave lasting damage to us. Same with demons and angels. It's also why we are more dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Jase asked.

The brunet nodded, "We have the power to summon our scythes which can cut through anything, and our glasses are not the same as human-made glasses. They also allow us to see things normally unseen. It gives us an advantage when other immortal beings are lurking. Demon's have their claws, teeth, and abilities to manipulate people in different ways. Heightened sense of smell… Angels have their light which they can form into weapons on a whim, the ability to heal and bless, or burn and kill as they see fit. Humans have no special powers, their strength and weaknesses are based on their knowledge of the world they live in. Very few can stand up to an immortal and win. We are lucky that they are not targeted often. The tragedy in Paris was bad, yes, but it's not the sort of thing that happens often." He took Jase's hand.

"Jase, things like this happen all over the world whether or not the angels are looking for one person in particular. Both angels or demons do so, and us reapers do our best to clean up the mess. Don't blame yourself for what happened to your countrymen."

"You ought to listen to him, lovely," encouraged Undertaker after having a sip of wine. "Alan's an insightful lad and since I've known him, he's never said anything without thinking it through first."

"Here, here," agreed William. He looked at his glass with a frown. "I think this may be my last of these for the night." His cheeks were subtly flushed from the warmth of the liquor, and his tongue had loosened too much for his liking.

Chronus laughed with delight. "Feeling a bit sauced, chap? I rather like this looser side of you. Maybe you should take advantage of it to tell Ronnie how you really feel about him, before it wears off."

William's flush deepened. "He already knows, thank you."

"But it's still nice ta hear, now and then," Eric pointed out with a wink at Alan. "Finish that glass off and we'll get ya some water ta finish up with."

Alan nodded, "I think Ronald would like it if you did. He's an openly affectionate guy, after all He may know your style of showing affection is more reserved and private between the two of you, but a passionate kiss with an 'I love you' would be a nice surprise for him." he said as he got up and poured a glass of ice water for William, setting it down next to the man's other glass before turning back to his meal.

The reserved Shinigami supervisor adjusted his tie uncomfortably and polished off the rest of his port. "I shall...see where the evening takes me."

As they finished eating their meal, Chronus noticed that Jase was eating quite slowly, with a faraway, troubled look on his youthful features. He couldn't see his eyes to read them due to the blindfold, but he sensed his disquiet through the link they shared. He leaned in close to him after finishing the last bite on his plate and he whispered into his ear.

"I know it won't change a thing if I tell you not to fret, love, but if there's anything I can do to take your mind off this mess, don't hesitate to let me know."

Jase nodded, "Sorry, such things are difficult to let go." He gave his husband a small smile, "I'll be fine. Nothing I can do about the lives lost, after all."

"Right, but I understand your heart," murmured the reaper, "so if you need to vent to me later when dinner is finished and we're alone in our room together, I've got a comfy shoulder."

The doll nodded, taking his hand and giving it a small squeeze, "I'll be fine—promise."

Undertaker smiled at him and returned the squeeze. "Good. I hate to be a worry-wart, but there's not much hiding our feelings from each other."

"Well, that was quite nice," William said, checking his watch. "Gentlemen, thank you for taking the time to answer my questions and having me for dinner. I am afraid I must be going soon, else I may have difficulties getting back into the hospital to check on Knox."

Eric got up swiftly. "Here, let me get a container for ya ta take ta Ronnie."

William nodded. "That would be most appreciated by him, I'm sure."

"You realize you can call him by his first name around us right now, right? We know about your relationship and we are not at work." Alan teased, pointing at William as the man stood up.

William looked slightly chagrined. "Old habits aren't so easy to break, it seems."

"You'll get used ta it eventually," promised Eric as he returned from the kitchen with a container. "Takes a bit o' adjustment, once ya stop hidin' it from others."

He handed the container to William, and before the supervisor could so much as take a step away from the table, Undertaker jumped up with his pointer finger raised in declaration. "Oh, the dessert! I was going to let dinner settle a bit before bringing it out, but seeing as you're leaving, I'll pack some up for you and Mr. Knox to share."

The mortician hopped up and glided to the kitchen, sweeping past Eric as the Scotsman was still in the process of handing over the dinner container to William. Eric scratched his head and looked toward the kitchen with a bemused smirk. "Wish I knew how he does that."

"He just likes to sneak up on people that way." Jase smirked, "Doesn't work on me anymore, though."

Undertaker evidently heard that from the kitchen. "That just means I'll have to try harder, my dear."

Eric snorted, and he tossed a wink Jase's way. "Dinnae let him push ya around, love. Ya seem ta handle yer spouse nicely."

"Someone needs to," said William in all seriousness.

"Gentlemen, my ears are burning." Undertaker returned from the kitchen with a light-hearted grin, carrying a tray of his famous bone-shaped shortbread cookies in one hand and a sealed container of them in the other. The tray he set on the table for everyone, and the container he handed over to Will. "I hope the boy enjoys them. Sweets for the sweet, I always say."

"Thank you." William took the offering, stacking it on top of the other container of leftovers. "You've all been most gracious. I apologize for bringing the subject off so soon after you were forced to leave your home. You probably made the right decision, even if the angel's attack on your home was only a coincidence. Gentlemen, have a good evening. I must be off."

"I'll see ya out," offered Eric.

Jase nodded his farewell, "Thank you for joining us for supper." He said as William was seen out. He then gathered the used dishes from the meal and took them in the kitchen for washing after dessert.

When he came back in, he walked up behind his lover, sliding his arms around him and resting his cheek against his back.

Chronus rested his long hands over the small arms embracing him, and he smiled. "Feeling a bit better now, my dear?"

"I still wish it hadn't happened, but yes." He nodded.

Undertaker turned around to face him, putting his arms around the doll to pull him close. "Then I'll drop the subject in favor of more pleasurable pursuits." He lowered his mouth to Jase's and he kissed him, unmindful of the other two reapers in the house.

Eric started to come back into the dining room, and he did an abrupt about-face when he saw his guests lip-locked. He snuck into the kitchen from the side-archway and he whispered into his husband's ear. "I think Undertaker an' Jase are havin' a moment. Maybe we ought ta finish up in here an' retire fer tha night, rather than embarrass tha lad by walkin' in on 'em."

"All for Jase's sake…or are you also hoping to have a moment?" Alan asked knowingly as he put things away in the cupboard.

With a grin, the blond reaper embraced his slighter husband from behind, and he kissed him on the ear. "I  _always_  want a moment with ye, my love. Ya know tha', by now." Knowing the effect it would have on him, he whispered a husky endearment in his mother tongue. " _An toir thu dhomh pòg_?"

The brunet smiled, sliding his arms around his husband, "Maybe one..." He popped up onto his toes, pressing their lips together.

Grinning, Eric turned him around in his arms and returned the kiss happily. These were the moments when all the badness went away...when he could just enjoy his husband and pretend nothing else existed. He deepened the kiss and he pulled the smaller reaper tighter against him, wishing he could stop time and just remain locked in him embrace, kissing him for all eternity. It was a bittersweet moment, one that he knew he would cherish for the rest of his days. He thanked creation for every kiss and every embrace, for he knew that one day not so far from now, it would be their last.

"Let's go to bed," he suggested huskily, his breath sighing over Alan's lips. There was only one thing better than kissing him, and Eric was surely ready for it.

"Oh, you want two or three moments." Alan accused, poking Eric in the chest with an accusing finger. "We have guests, Mister Slingby, they'll hear us!"

Though he had to admit that the idea was tempting... it had been a while for them because work kept getting in the way. One or the other having to work late, coming home after their husband had gone to bed.

The brunet bit his lip in thought, "But if we can keep quiet... what they don't know can't make them feel awkward down the hall." He popped up, placing another kiss upon Eric's lips as he took his hand, guiding him back towards their bedroom.

Grinning like a fool, the Scotsman readily followed him.

~xox~

"Hmm, looks like our hosts are retiring early for the night," Undertaker murmured when he heard the Slingphries' bedroom door shut. "I suppose I can't hold it against them for failing to say goodnight. When the moment's right, it's right."

He smiled broadly down at his husband, caressing him with his eyes. "Speaking of right moments..." Chronus cupped the doll's bottom and gave it a squeeze. "What do you say we follow their example, pet? I'm feeling frisky."

Jase's eyes widened, "You mean they are-? And you want—We are guests…should we really be dirtying their sheets?" Jase paused when Undertaker simply giggled and pressed a finger to his lips, tilting his head enough for his fringe to fall to the side, letting the doll get lost in them. The brunet melted into those ancient pools of green and gold, a spark of adoration and passion.

"Well…maybe if we offer to do laundry for them tomorrow…" he whispered with a flush.

"That's my lad," approved the mortician. He let his hands give Jase's bottom another squeeze. "Besides, we're a married couple. I'm sure they rather expect us to get up to a bit of hanky-panky together, don't you think?"

"We are still offering to clean the sheets," Jase said, "we get messy sometimes."

It was a bit child-like, but Jase slid his arms up over the taller man's neck, giving a little hop and hooking his legs around Chronus' waist to bring himself up to the other's level, "and we try to keep quiet…or…I need too…" his cheeks darkened more. He knew he was loud in bed.

Chronus laughed in delight, supporting the doll's slight weight against his body easily. "I'll try to keep your voice muffled with kisses, then."

He demonstrated his intention by closing the distance between their mouths once more, and he locked lips with him as he carried him back into the bedroom they were staying in.

* * *

 

Eric was oblivious to the activities of his and Alan's guests. He was busily trying to take his shirt off while kissing his partner almost roughly, his tongue laying claim to the moist heat of Alan's mouth. The brunet's enthusiastic responses to his kisses intoxicated him. Every moment in Alan's arms felt like a dream to Eric, and he tried to curb his own aggression out of fear of hurting him by accident. He trembled with the intensity of his need, but he wasn't really surprised by it. All it took from Alan was a few kisses and a gentle touch to set him afire. At first he thought that really wasn't fair, but then he discovered the smaller man's Achilles Heel when he learned the effect that speaking in his mother tongue had on him.

As he lifted Alan against him, his shirt hanging open but still attached, he began to murmur Gaelic endearments to him.

 _"Mo chroí_ ," he said breathlessly, "  _Mo muirnín, a ghrá geal Alan_."

Alan moaned softly, "Eric...when you do that..." he shivered, eagerly helping to strip them both of their clothes, no longer embarrassed of the scars of Thorns marring his skin. When they had begun to appear, he had been afraid to show Eric, even though they were already married at the time. With each new attack, they grew. Thin, white-green tinted lines like vines growing under his skin and showing through. They were beautiful in a way...and reminded him of an interesting tattoo...but they were also a reminder that he was in his last leg of his illness...that they would take his life sooner rather than later.

The vines climbed up his arms and legs, stretching towards his heart and up his neck, still hidden under his collar, but not for long. So far, only Alan's Doctorand Erichad seen them.

But he still worried they would kill the mood if Eric paid them too much attention—though he never did. Opting to kiss along them, wishing them away.

"Eric…Eric, I love you…" He whispered once they lay naked within their passionate embrace.

The Scotsman kissed his throat, his tongue tracing a warm moist path down to his clavicle. His weight settled on top of Alan and he blindly reached for the nightstand, pulling open the little drawer on it to retrieve the lubricant they kept there.

"I love ya too, sweetling," replied the blond. His lips gently caressed one of the marks of his illness, pressing softly against them as he reigned in his desire. He did it to show Alan that he wasn't put off by them. Indeed, if it weren't for the fact that the bloody things were killing his husband, he could even appreciate their graceful beauty. He lifted up a bit to squeeze some of the lubricant out onto his erection, and took Alan's hand and encouraged him to spread it over his heated flesh. His breath caught and he collected some more in his hand to begin preparing the brunet.

He ordinarily didn't like to go this fast, and he deliberately tried to slow down some more. Alan deserved every bit of care he could give him; not being rutted over. "Tha' feels so good," he said breathlessly as Alan's hand stroked his throbbing length, squeezing it intimately as it coated it with the lube. He rubbed the brunet's entrance with slippery fingers, massaging until it relaxed enough to insert a finger.

Alan slowly slid his hand along Eric's slickened shaft, spreading the lube over and along each thick, throbbing inch. Keeping it slow so that they could enjoy being inside each other longer.

He let himself stay relaxed under Eric, not fighting the fingers starting to stretch him and prepare him for the act. Small moans escaping him as Eric probed and prodded; heating his body up with practiced skill and slowly adding fingers until Alan felt ready, rolling his hips to let him know that he was ready when Eric was.

Eric growled softly, his lion's mane of hair falling over his eyes as he settled his hips between Alan's parted thighs and propped the brunet's legs over his shoulders. "Alan," he sighed, butting against the slippery heat of his waiting entrance. He stared down at him, memorizing his features as he breached him. For all his unbridled lust, he somehow managed to be gentle. He eased into the smaller reaper's body, watching the way Alan's brows furrowed with the first initial thrust. The brief expression of discomfort faced as Eric rocked forward and filled him, pausing to give Alan the chance to relax around his invading length.

Eric bowed over him and he kissed him softly, his lips feathering over Alan's parted, gasping ones as he withdrew to the tip and then slid back in. The feel of his arms around him, the whisper of his soft, warm breath against his ear and the gentle exclamations of pleasure just about undid him. The answering expression of pleasure on those fine-boned features made him want to do more, but he waited. It was for Alan to say when he was ready for more, and not for Eric to assume.

Alan took deep, calming breaths as he adjusted and relaxed, opening his eyes still behind his delicate wire-rimmed glasses. He took another moment before nodding, "I'm ready."

His whisper feathered over Eric's shoulder, and he slid his arms along Eric's back to reassure him he really was ready, and that he was only whispering because of their guests.

The brunet pulled himself up off the mattress slightly, one elbow helping to prop himself up as his legs were already up so high, and he kissed his lover, slipping his tongue out to wet his lover's lower lip.

"Ah, lover," Eric gasped, entranced by the younger reaper's gentle encouragement. He began to move slowly, feathering attentive kisses over Alan's face and lips. The moonlight coming in through the window painted Alan's lithe, Thorn-ravaged body in pale light. Eric pumped a little harder, driven to greater passion by the sounds of his husband's gasps. "Alan..."

He rolled over with him, wanting to let him set the pace. He was getting too excited, too hot. He stared up at him with lusty, aching eyes as he situated the slighter body atop him, and he ran his palms over the lean splendor of him. "Is it all right, love?" He gripped Alan's erection in one hand, stroking it lovingly as he gazed up at him.

Alan flushed darker. He always felt more exposed in positions like this, and as a modest man who didn't like to show off, it put him on edge, particularly this night. Their bedrooms didn't have locks on the doors. Only their bathroom had a lock aside from the front and back doors. He doubted Jase would interrupt. The young doll was terribly polite, but Undertaker, on the other hand. The ancient was forward and at times lacked respect for boundaries and other people's comfort. Unless, of course, that person was Jase. He glanced uncertainly at the door, only to turn back when Eric placed a reassuring hand to his cheek, his knuckles stroking it softly in reassurance that if something did happen, he'd be quick to turn them over and pull a blanket or sheet up over them.

He didn't often take this position, and as such, he could only move so fast without it getting awkward. So, he moved slowly at first, gasping as he felt every inch slide out, and then back in once he reached the tip

Eric watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, waiting to begin moving again until he was certain his spouse was comfortable enough. Calloused palms slid over Alan's gently undulating body, lovingly stroking his chest, stomach and hips. Eric took his time, memorizing his partner's slight, sweet frame with his hands and eyes. He wanted to engrave the memory of every moment they had together in his mind, wanted to recall them with vivid clarity whenever he wished. He traced the marks of the thorns tattooing Alan's body, before claiming the length of his arousal in one big hand and stroking it lovingly.

"Yer so damned hot," sighed the Scotsman bluntly. He know Alan didn't think so—the brunet was a humble sort of reaper that didn't know his own appeal. Eric always made it a point to remind him of how alluring he was—not because Alan had low self-esteem, but because he really couldn't help himself.

Alan shook his head, "No…no, I'm not the 'hot' one…" he gasped, biting his lip and moaned as he slid back down again, "Ahh-Eric!" He cried out, forgetting he was trying to be quiet. He grabbed his husband's hand, gripping it tight.

He couldn't hold back any longer. Eric began to thrust beneath him, holding tight to the hand gripping his, while stroking him off with the other. He tried to take it slow, always careful of the brunet's delicate state. Gasping with pleasure, he watched Alan as he took him from beneath, driving his aching flesh deep into the willing heat of his body. He loved the way Alan's brows furrowed, and the way his lips parted to moan exclamations of passion that he couldn't seem to hold back. The Scotsman pumped a little harder, lifting his partner off the mattress as he rolled his hips beneath him.

"Love you, bonny lad," he groaned, stroking his erection faster.

"Ah-h!" Alan, unable to keep up with the pace, held himself up as best he could, stretching his body and arching his back as he rode his lover with his lover's help and speed. The quick rhythm forcing his breath out in time, and his mind fogging over from pleasure.

"E-ric! L-love—you!" he gasped, his head falling back as he savored the feel of his husband inside him again. He never wanted it to end…he didn't want to leave—he wasn't ready. He just couldn't leave Eric…

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he was brought closer and closer to completion.

Eric saw the glisten of tears, and his own eyes stung with the threat of answering ones. Al tried to be brave, but he knew he was afraid, deep down. Eric was, too. He had no idea what happened to Shinigami souls once they were dead. If his love had to die, he hoped he at least ended up somewhere nice in the afterlife—somewhere Eric could eventually join him. The thought of that made him glad that he hadn't gone ahead with his plan to chase a myth and try to save him, because if he'd been wrong about that—and all evidence said he would have been—then he would have surely been destined for a different place, when it was his time. At least if he tried to follow the rules and live a decent reaper life, he had a chance of being reunited with him.

Eric sat up in the bed with a bit of effort, and he put his arms around his husband. He kissed Alan's tears away when they spilled over, and he muffled his cry of release when he came in his hand.

Panting and hugging Eric close, he kept moving and rolling his hips after his climax ended, coaxing Eric to his own release, his gasping lips covering Eric's until he heard his husband grunt in pleasure and feeling the increase of wetness inside him as he came.

Then Alan let himself collapse against Eric, his wet cheeks rubbing against his neck, "Eric…" he tightened his arms around him, his voice lowering to a whisper, "I-I'm sorry…I didn't mean to start crying…"

Winded from his climax, the Scotsman shook his head and held him close, stroking Alan's dark hair and whispering to him. "It's alright, love. I know it was'nae because I was hurtin' ya. Shh, dinnae worry 'bout it."

He kissed the dampness from his cheeks and he rocked him. They stayed that way for several minutes, until they both calmed down. When he felt Alan had settled enough to sleep, he carefully shifted beneath him and rolled onto his side, taking the smaller reaper with him. He rested one bent leg over Alan's hips and he held him close, kissing his forehead and stroking his hair.

One little known fact was that Eric Slingby had a nice singing voice. He typically only demonstrated it to his partner, and knowing how it tended to sooth him, he began to sing an old Scottish tune, his accent thickening even further.

_"It was on an evenin' sae saft and sae clear  
_ _A bonny lass was milking the kye,  
_ _And by came a troup of gentlemen,  
_ _And rode the bonny lassie by._

_"Then one of them said unto her,  
_ _Bonny lass, prythee shew me the way:  
_ _O if I do sae, it may bree me wae,  
_ _For langer I dare nae stay."_

He kept singing 'The Broom of Cowdenknows', crooning his lover to sleep. He knew quite a few traditional ballads and folksongs, but many of them were depressing to him, and he didn't want to offer a drinking song as a lullaby, of all things. Eric's voice broke on the last verse and he took a shuddering breath. Alan was asleep. He softly kissed his lips and he waited for a few moments to be sure he was deep in slumber, before easing out of his embrace and getting out of bed. He donned his robe and he quietly left the room, heading into the kitchen.

Eric poured himself a whisky and he sat at the breakfast table in the dark, silently pondering Alan's fate and his own angst over it. He finished his drink and he went for another, this time bringing the bottle back with him. He sensed another presence approaching and he tensed, until he recognized the Undertaker. The ancient was also in a robe, and he paused upon seeing Eric.

"Couldn't sleep?" whispered Chronus.

Eric shook his head. "You either, eh?"

"Not a wink," sighed Chronus. "Mind if I join you?"

Eric gestured at the bottle. "Find a glass and have all ya want."

The ancient easily located a tumbler and he joined him at the table. "Thanks, chap," he said as Eric obligingly poured some whisky for him. He chuckled softly and shook his head. "Doesn't take a mind reader to know you're worried about your spouse."

The Scotsman gave a rueful smile. "Same to ye."

Undertaker sighed. "What a pair we are. That's the problem with bonding with another, though; no matter how much they tell you they're all right, you can sense when they aren't being entirely truthful, and vice-versa."

Eric nodded and sipped his drink. "Aye." He looked at the ancient, and he thought perhaps he might know some answers to the questions in his head. "Chronus, where do ya think reapers go when they die?"

"Hmm. Some get recycled. Others move on to Heaven, Hell or Purgatory...depends on the reaper and the cycle of his life as such." Undertaker shrugged and had a swallow of his whisky, grimacing a little at the taste.

"What do ye mean, 'recycled'?"

The ancient gave himself a second to recover before answering. "I mean reborn...as a mortal. They live out a new life as humans and when that's over, they either get chosen as Shinigami again, or they pass on to one of the previous mentioned realms of the afterlife."

Eric considered this. "I...I know it's selfish, but I hope Alan gets reborn, and becomes a reaper again."

Undertaker tilted his head and watched him, his expression hard to read. "You know the chances of that are slim, don't you?"

Eric nodded. "Even so...he could come back ta me. If not then...then I hope he goes to Heaven."

He started to cry, and he turned away in embarrassment. "Och...sorry."

Living with Jase had taught Chronus compassion that he'd never quite had before. He reached out and patted Eric's trembling shoulder. "It's all right, lad. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

The Scotsman composed himself, all the same. "Ah, look at me...weeping like a bairn. He doesn't need that."

Undertaker smiled. "He isn't here, now is he? Get it off your chest. Better to cry here than in front of him, isn't it?"

Eric wiped his eyes and took a slow breath. "Aye, but he'll know anyhow. I think I'll finish this, brush ma teeth an' go back ta bed. Thanks, sir."

Undertaker sat back and nursed his own drink. "Not a worry."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Jase awoke before his husband, and he carefully slipped out of bed, slipping into his pajamas before tip-toeing out of the room so that he wouldn't wake Chronus. He had been awake enough after their evening activities to realize the reaper had left when he thought Jase was in a deep enough sleep. Though he hadn't been awake when he returned, so he didn't know how late the man had stayed up.

Choosing to let Chronus sleep in as needed, the Frenchman made his way to the kitchen which smelled of breakfast. Alan stood over the stove, frying up bacon and sausage links to go with the eggs that he planned to make next as they cooked faster.

"Good morning." Jase smiled.

"Ah, Jase, I had a feeling you'd be the first one out." Alan flashed him a grin, "Mind squeezing those oranges for juice? I made you some sausage. I only browned the outside so it looks cooked for you, and I set your plate out first to cool so it won't be too hot." He said in a caring parent-like way.

Jase nodded, walking over to juice the oranges, "Thank you."

Alan had learned quickly that Jase, while needing his meat raw to be able to taste it at all, he preferred it to at least look cooked. And he always took care to make sure Jase's food had time to cool.

"How did you sleep?"

"Better than I thought I would last night." Jase sighed, cutting an orange in half, "I thought I'd stay up for hours worried over what happened yesterday, but Chronus made sure to calm me enough where I could fall asleep."

Alan pressed his lips together as he flipped the bacon before turning to look at the doll, "You'll feel the loss of all the lives of your lost countrymen no matter what we assure you of…" he observed.

Jase was quiet, setting the orange half aside when he was done with it and grabbing the other half to start extracting the juice.

"…I can't help it… I also can't help wondering…what they would do next if the Angels really were looking for me. I truly hope that they aren't looking for me and that it's ended now…that no one else gets hurt or killed…but…" he sighed, licking his lip where a small amount of juice squirted up onto his face unexpectedly. He couldn't taste it, of course, but he could try to remember its sweet flavor.

"If they are after me, there are people I care about… The angels may target you and Eric…or Chronus…That angel at the cottage got away, right? He knows that you two are important to me. They know about Chronus…I couldn't stand it if they attacked any one of you."

Alan sighed and pulled the short young man into a hug, running his hand through Jase's messy, un-brushed fringe. "You already know we would fight for you, but I know that's not what you want to hear… but have more faith in us. We are all strong reaper officers. Eric jokes around a lot, but he knows when he needs to get serious. He knows what he is doing. And I am stronger than I seem…something I have to remind Eric of every once in a while. I don't let my illness hold me back, and I know when I need to pull back and let Eric take over for me. And your Chronus…He's the strongest reaper I know. No one has ever bested him—at least, according to our records. Remember, when we arrested him, we had to cheat a little…we had to play towards his emotions. That's something the angels shouldn't be able to do because he knows if he lets them get to his head like we had, it would only be putting you in danger. He would never let that happen, and you know it."

Jase breathed in a deep sigh, "I suppose you are right…but I wish there was more that I can do…Running to the cellar every time I see an angel isn't very helpful. If it were demons, maybe, but how am I supposed to help against Heaven?"

"What do you mean?" Alan frowned.

"Exorcism." Jase stated, "Using spells and sigils to banish demons. Obviously I wasn't old enough of a priest to master such a thing, but I had looked into it while I was in my apprenticeship. Of course, we had called it using the will and word of God, but I know now that it was likely just—something supernatural that some humans could learn."

"…Yes…though I thought the art of such things had died out among humans. So few believe in it any more… The key to it working is truly believing…come on, I have an idea." He removed the pan from the heat so that the food wouldn't burn and took Jase's hand, leading him into the sitting room where he searched the shelves for a book. Spotting the one he needed, Alan pulled it down and flipped it open to the page he needed before turning it to show Jase.

On the page was an image. A circle with lines inside and seven symbols surrounding it. "This is an angel banishment sigil. Obviously, the church wouldn't use this one at all as they think so highly of Heaven. But if you can memorize this and replicate it, you could use it to banish angels away from you should one get too close. Ink will work if for real emergencies you want to carry some around in your pocket, but using blood to draw them is more powerful—that is if you really believe these will work. Paper and ink would banish only one per sigil. Blood would banish all within range."

Jase took the book, "…But I have to believe in it, truly believe?"

Alan nodded, "Yes…I know you wish you could fight beside Chonus…but this is the best I can offer you."

"Thank you…I'll try to learn it properly." The Frenchman said, looking at the page.

"Good. Now, lets go finish breakfast before our two sleeping beauties finally awaken, hmm?" Alan smiled, leading the way back into the kitchen where they started to finish preparing breakfast.

* * *

 

The silver reaper yawned and stretched, before reaching for his husband. Finding the other side of the bed empty, he frowned and opened his eyes. Jase must have snuck out without waking him—which was an impressive feat. He tended to seek out the Frenchman's warmth instinctively and cuddle him every chance he got. Shrugging, Chronus sat up and scratched his belly lightly, before swinging his pale legs over the side of the bed and getting up. He picked up his pajama bottoms and slid them on before leaving the bedroom, bare-chested. He smelled the aroma of the cooking food and his stomach growled in response to it.

Sneaking into the kitchen, he spotted Jase juicing some oranges at one of the marble-top counters. He grinned and he glided up behind the doll to embrace him. "Morning, love," he murmured against his temple, planting a kiss there.

"Mm, Good morning, Chronus." Jase smiled, turning his head and popping up on his toes to meet his rather tall lover's lips. Of course, it helped that Chronus was stooped over slightly as he embraced him. "Breakfast is almost ready."

He finished with the last of the oranges, the pitcher full.

"Good morning," Alan greeted, plating the eggs next to the bacon and sausage on three plates for them and taking them over to the table.

"Morning to you too, chap," greeted the Undertaker with a smile. "It smells lovely. I'll help with the cleanup, since I was being a lazy bones and slept in through the preparation. Want me to go and drag your spouse out of bed, before it starts getting cold?"

"Yes please. But don't be surprised if he confuses you for me. His mind isn't the fastest when he first wakes up…one time he fell asleep at work and when Ronald tried waking him up before he got caught, he kissed the poor boy thinking it was me."

"He almost confused me with Alan as well one time he took a nap after work out on the porch and I went to get him for dinner." Jase said, taking four glasses over to the table and setting them down, filling three with juice and one with water for himself.

The mortician chuckled at the thought. "This could be an opportunity for a bit of fun. Oh, don't look at me that way, Jase love. I don't intend to have my way with the man if he mistakes me for his sweetheart." He looked down at his shirtless body with bemusement. "Though I can't see how he really could. At least Ronald and you are closer to Alan's height and build than I am, and my hair ought to be a dead giveaway."

Shrugging, he left the kitchen and went down the hall to the master bedroom. He knocked softly before peeking in. "Eric, rise and shine. There's a nice breakfast to be had."

The Scotsman mumbled and stuffed a pillow over his head.

"Oh, you're one of  _those_  sleepers, are you?" The mortician grinned. He could be a fairly persistent dozer himself when it was too early for him. He approached the bed and reached down to give the blond's exposed shoulder a gentle shake. "Wakey, wakey."

Eric reached out and hooked an arm around the mortician's neck before he could pull away. Undertaker got dragged onto the bed next to him, and he was suddenly embraced in the younger man's powerful arms.

"Really, you flatter me," he said, "but I think Jase and Alan might get a tad jealous, don't you?"

Eric gave a slight start, and he pulled his head out from under the pillow to blink at him. The ancient grinned mischievously as comprehension flooded Eric's features—followed quickly by a ruddy blush.

"Ah, pardon me," said Eric in a sleep-roughened voice as he let go of the older reaper. He sat up and reached for his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Thought it was Alan."

The Undertaker snickered and shook his head, climbing back off of the bed to stand up. "Nothing like a good chuckle to start the day. I'll just leave you to it and we'll see you at the table."

He left the room and returned to the dining area, still chuckling under his breath. Eric emerged a short while later, covered in his green plaid robe. His face was still ruddy with embarrassment when he gave his husband a kiss on the cheek and sat down to join them.

"You kissed him, didn't you?" Alan accused with an amused smile, "You should pay more attention when people wake you up." He turned and kissed Eric's cheek as he sat down to join them for breakfast.

"Or he at least snuggled." Jase said, "Chonus is good at that."

The mortician snickered. "Indeed. I got a bit of a cuddle from our blushing friend, yes. Fortunately, he figured it out before it progressed to smooches."

Eric seemed to shrink a little in his chair as they all looked at him, his broad shoulders scrunching up. "It wasnae on purpose!"

"Maybe you ought to imbibe in some coffee," suggested the Undertaker between snorts and giggles, "before you mistake one of us again and play footsie under the table."

Eric sighed and he gave Alan a pleading look, silently begging him to make everyone stop teasing him.

Alan covered his mouth to hide the giggle bubbling up. He couldn't help but enjoy it, just a little. Usually it was Eric teasing him, after all. He had his own tease-worthy quirks.

But he nodded and forced back his giggles before speaking up. "Alright you two, I'm afraid my husband can't take the teasing."

Still chuckling, Undertaker began to cut into a fried egg. "Just having a bit of fun. I'll be merciful and leave off."

"Yer too kind," grumbled Eric, spearing a piece of sausage with his fork. He ate a bite and he nodded, smiling at his spouse. "This is tasty," he complimented after swallowing. "Thanks fer makin' breakfast, love."

"Well someone had to. You were impossible to wake up when I first got up. But Jase got up and helped."

"With the juice, at least." Jase nodded, "Do the two of you have work today? Chronus and I should go talk to his probation officer to let him know we are staying with you currently."

Eric shrugged and swallowed down another bite before answering. "Good idea. We've got some reports ta fill out. Odern'nat, it'll be a slow day. What?" He noticed Undertaker looking at him with a frown.

"Can you repeat that last bit, chap?"

Eric sighed and tempered his accent. "Other than that, it's going to be a slow day." He spoke slowly, as if talking to an idiot.

Undertaker burst into laughter. "I was just funning with you again, lad. Sorry, couldn't resist."

Eric shrugged. "I'm used to you English having trouble understanding me when I don't cover the accent."

"No need to do that in your own home," assured the Undertaker hastily. "I did understand you; I've just got a deplorable funny-bone and you seemed an easy target." He cringed a little when Jase cast him a remonstrating look.

Alan reached over and squeezed Eric's arm, "Your accent is still sexy." He reassured him, kissing his knuckles when he lifted his fingers up to his lips. Normally he wouldn't do such in front of people, but they were in their own home. He could relax a bit and give the love of his life the affection he felt for him. It was at work he held back to maintain a professional atmosphere.

Jase blinked. He hadn't understood it the first time. Of course, English wasn't his mother tongue, either.

" _Mòran taing_ , bonny love." Eric smiled up at his spouse. He looked at Jase, keeping his accent tame for his benefit—and for his own protection against further teasing. "You could both come with us to Headquarters today, if it will make it easier. You can check in with the probation officer while Alan and I are filing reports, and if he gives you any trouble, I'll gladly step in. I'm sure Al would back me."

Undertaker grinned with amusement. "Like a protective pair of foster parents. There's no need to get yourselves involved, though. I wouldn't want Holtz to find a reason to give you chaps grief. I fancy the idea of going in all together, at any rate. Jase and I could do a bit of shopping when we leave, have some lunch and get dinner started for us all when we return."

He leaned toward the Frenchman to give him a kiss on the cheek. "What do you think of that plan, love?"

Nodding, the Frenchman swallowed his bite of sausage, "I'd like to also stop by the infirmary to see how Mister Knox is doing if he hasn't been released yet."

"I think he'd like that. Ronald hates the hospital more than I do." Alan chuckled, "He can't stand being stuck in bed all the time. He's a rather active young man."

"I just hope Mister Holtz doesn't waste our time. He really seems to distrust Chronus."

Undertaker snickered around his food. He had enough propriety to finish chewing and swallowing before responding. "That's because I bother his ego."

Eric put his juice down and regarded the ancient with smirking suspicion. "Did you pull pranks on him?"

Chronus piled the last of his breakfast into one bite-sized mound and he nodded. "Of course! But I strongly suspect jealousy issues. He's polite enough to Jase, but he itches for the chance to put me in custody again."

He waved his free hand dismissively as he forked up his remaining bite. "Pay it no mind. He's a stuffy, blustering, jealous fool. He's still constrained by Shinigami rules of conduct, fortunately." He shoveled in the condensed mixture of sausage and eggs, somehow managing not to spill any off his fork in the process.

"He could have still been more respectful…and you really were pushing your luck with that last prank." Jase said, sipping his water, "Nevertheless, we have to put up with him for your remaining years of probation, which includes reporting in to him about any changes in our location." He stood up and gathered the dirty dishes of the three of them who had finished eating, Eric, having been distracted, still had food on his plate. He then walked over to the sink to rinse them off for easier cleaning. He would have offered to do the dishes himself, but putting his hands in hot water to wash them wasn't ideal on a day where they would be going out.

"Right...the prank. I forgot about that." Chronus got up to help with the washing up. He began to fill the sink with hot water and he grinned at his spouse. "As far as he knows, it was nothing but indigestion. He's got no proof to say otherwise. I was careful about that, love."

"Careful, old man," Eric warned seriously. "You don't need to give the man an excuse to put marks against you. Alan worked hard on your case to get you out of prison early. Don't risk making his efforts for naught."

"I'll keep that in mind," promised the ancient as he added soap to the water. "But my guess is that Dispatch has bigger things to worry about than a mad old kook, right now."

"Quite. The mess in Paris caused London Dispatch just as much paperwork as Paris Dispatch and the other dispatches that helped. It's always a pain when souls have been collected to the wrong district." Alan sighed, "But at least this isn't as messy as when two countries go to war. I wouldn't be surprised, however, if the Higher orders a meeting with Heaven about this."

"You can do that?" Jase asked.

"The High council of Reapers can." The brunet nodded, "They have the ability to meet with the archangels of Heaven's Council and the High Demon Princes should any concerning conflict arise. And if the attack on Paris was just the beginning, we would need to know if it's the work of fallen angels, or Heaven's council. If it's the council, we can not interfere, if it's the work of the fallen, then we can fight back and try to stop it."

"It seems to me they could give you warning before they order attacks like that…"

"Yes, well…it's complicated. The three immortal races are charged with keeping the world in balance. But we all have different viewpoints. Reapers feel that mortal souls should be collected and kept safe until their judgment days where they will be reborn as a new human, an angel, a demon, or even a reaper. Demons feel that souls should be used only for nutrition. But once a soul is consumed it can never live again as anything. Most of them understand that, at least, and the creation of completely new souls is rare. So that is why Demons form contracts. We have an agreement that we can not interfere with demonic contracts as it is their way of limiting their intake of souls. Angels, however, feel that our hands can be too dirty to touch a soul. They just want everything to be pure and free of sin. They are the hardest to get along with, but our agreement is that we will not interfere with their official cleansings. They, however, feel they owe us no warning of such things."

"But you can still collect a purified soul, right?" Jase asked.

"Well…" Alan glanced at Eric and Undertaker before going on, "Sometimes. If we are fast enough. Holy Fire can burn the sin away…and can burn the soul away completely. We can save the souls if we work fast enough which is why Paris called for help. A reaper can only work so fast, and an angel can do more damage in just as much time."

Jase felt stunned, to think he, himself had been so close to even his soul being burned away. "…Which means…" the Frenchman looked at his husband, "You did what you did to me to save me in very limited time."

Chronus nodded. "Indeed. Had I left you to die that way, you might have been wiped from existence completely. I confess I didn't care much about that at the time, but now..."

He put the dish he'd been washing in the rack to dry and he leaned over to plant a kiss on the crown of the Frenchman's head, before nuzzling the soft hair. "It would have been a real shame if you burned up in that holy fire, love."

"I agree," said Eric with a nod. He checked his watch and whistled softly. "We're running a bit behind. We should get showered and changed. I know you two don't have a schedule to meet on checking in with the probation officer, but it's best you don't put it off."

"Good point," agreed the Undertaker, and he dried his hands on a towel. "Any issues with hot water distribution in this place if we have both showers going at once?"

Eric shook his head. "None. We have a big heating tank and good plumbing in this building." He winked at Alan. "But it might be better to shower in pairs, to cut down on water usage."

"I wouldn't need hot water either way." Jase reminded, "For me, the colder, the better."

"If we shower together, Slingby, you can look but don't touch. You're right, we don't have the time to mess around." Alan leaned in close, "And we tend to spend a lot of time together when we bathe together." He whispered.

The Scotsman chuckled and put an arm around his spouse. "An' I enjoy every minute of it," he whispered back, "but I'll try an' keep ma hands to maself, this time."

Undertaker clapped his hands. "Right then. Let's get cleaned up and get this over with. I don't want to spend any more time at Headquarters than I have to."

* * *

 

William collected Ronald from the hospital that morning, once he was released. He'd had to go into the office before they released him, but he came back for him when they phoned him. As they got into his waiting automobile, William glanced at him. "Are you certain you are ready to return to duty?"

Ronald gave a shrug, "Doc said to take it easy…slow movements, no standing in high places... Because I may get dizzy spells still, but we have a lot of work to do, and knowing you, you'd lose track of the time without me there and would pull an all-nighter at the office again while I'm home in bed waiting for you. Nah, I'll go to work." He said as he sat in the car's passenger seat, "…Maybe take turns easy for me while driving…it'd help, probably."

William nodded, having already intended to drive more carefully with his passenger. "You should avoid going to the upper floors of headquarters, then."

He started the car and checked his mirrors before pulling out of his parking space. Once he got out onto the road, he took the back streets to avoid heavier traffic and he felt safe enough to take one hand off the wheel. Glancing sidelong at his companion, he pushed aside proper public behavior and reminded himself that they were alone in the automobile. William reached across the seats to place a hand on Ronald's knee—a subtle gesture of affection.

Ronald glanced over at him and smiled, "Our offices are on the upper floors, though. I'm sure if I take the stairs up rather than the lift I shouldn't get dizzy, and we have walls to catch me if I do." He sighed and placed his hand on Will's as he leaned back in his seat, "Head injuries are the worst."

"I'll see what I can arrange. Nothing says you must be on our floor to do your work. There may be a temporary arrangement we can make, until you've recovered. I won't have you collapsing on me when it can be avoided, Ronald."

William kept his eyes on the road, but his hand squeezed the blond's knee for emphasis.

The boy pushed his lower lip out in a pout, "But then I'll be twelve whole floors away from you." He rubbed his head and brushed his hair back out of his face, "Can we at least test it before I'm trapped down on the ground floor? I mean, even my apartment is on the third floor of my building."

A year ago, William might have chastised him for being so stubborn. He'd begun to see things in a different light though. Ronald wasn't trying to be belligerent, he was trying to stay closer to him...and possibly ward off boredom, as well. William smirked as an idea came to him. He could afford to spoil his lover a little, given his recent performance and being injured on the job.

"What would you say if I could procure one of the VIP conference rooms on the second floor just for us, for a few days? They are equipped with what we need to work and if you should feel you need a break, there are plenty of lounges for you to nap on."

"You could do that?" Ron asked, a small smile curling his lips, "And you'd work there with me when you can?" He knew it was unrealistic for William to move completely down into a VIP room while he was still at risk for dizzy spells. William had a lot of responsibilities.

William nodded. "When my duties don't require me to be in my office, I'll be down there with you." He briefly took his hand off Ronald's knee to nudge his glasses further up, and then he replaced the hand where it was before. He slowed down to take a wide corner and he glanced at the blond sidelong. "I believe if I can manage multitasking and Grell Sutcliff, I can also manage dividing my work day between the second floor and the eleventh. I haven't put in a request to use that conference room for some time, and I have at least three reservations coming to me."

"And you can afford to use one on me? Aren't there more important things?" It still surprised him once in a while when William put Ronald's needs before his work needs. It was nice, and was one of the ways William showed him how much he really did love him.

Ron took Will's hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to it.

The supervisor's mouth curved into a quiet smile at the gesture. "Keeping my staff healthy is part of my job as a supervisor, and under the circumstances, I doubt the chief administration will have an issue with the use of one conference room. There are three more available."

He briefly caressed Ronald's face with the back of his fingers, sparing a moment to look at him full on. "And besides, I can't very well put at risk one of my best agents. By all rights, you should be at home resting and yet you insist on coming in and doing your part. You've grown, Ronald. I am...proud of you."

Such words still came with difficulty for him, after two decades of managing a short-staffed department and learning to be stern and aloof. If anyone deserved to hear them from him right now, it was Ronald.

Ronald nodded and sighed, "Crap, I'm growing up and getting boring and responsible." he smirked, "You're rubbing off on me, Will. Less drinking, more working... Who am I anymore?"

William smirked back, placing his hand back on the wheel with his other one in preparation to turn at the approaching intersection. "An adult, perhaps? There will be plenty of time for partying once we've sorted out this mess with the angels."

He refrained from telling him about the surprise he had in store. Business before pleasure, as always. Once the threat of imbalance was gone, then he could set his personal plans for himself and his lover in motion. He slowed down, turned left and then turned right into the parking lot of Shinigami Dispatch Headquarters.

"Here we are," he announced unnecessarily. It surprised him how dull he felt about it, but then he knew they had a long day ahead of them.

"Yay, time to party in the paperwork." Ron smirked, unbuckling himself and getting out of the car. He groaned as he stretched, bending his back backwards in a gentle arch. Then he walked around to William's door, waiting for the man to get out before he took his hand.

"...This is okay, right?"

William looked at the hand in his as he shut the door. This was his moment of truth...his test of whether he could put aside the cold conservative and have a normal relationship. He saw other reaper couples coming and going from the building, holding hands just like they were. With a determined expression, he nodded and returned the pressure of his lover's hand. It was time people knew, and he refused to feel shamed or unprofessional about it.

"Shall we?"

Ronald nodded, his smile widening as he was unable to hold back a fist pump before they started walking towards the front door. They walked into the office building side-by-side as they had a few times before, but it didn't take long before people began to take notice of how their fingers were firmly entwined. With notice, came whispers.

Ronald ignored them, walking over to the front desk to punched in for his shift.

Eric nearly spit out his coffee when he saw the couple stroll in together. He nudged his spouse and brought it to his attention with a whisper, nodding toward the approaching boss and the blond party-boy. "Al...Alan, look!"

"At what, Eric-eh?" Alan looked up, smiling when he saw the couple. "It's about time. Ronald seems happier being able to casually display his relationship. I'm surprised he was able to hide it for so long, really."

"I really wasn't sure William would actually go through with it," confessed Eric softly, smiling as well. "Well, good for them."

William walked with dignity, greeting people with polite nods as he and Ronald joined the line to clock in. He looked faintly uncomfortable when Eric toasted him with his cup of coffee, grinning from ear to ear. He raised a brow at one of the receptionists from Personnel who was staring, and she hastily busied herself elsewhere.

"What's all this then, Ronald?" asked the woman who worked the clock-in desk in the mornings.

Ronald let go of William's hand as he needed that hand to sign his name in and put in the time on his sheet when she handed it to him, "Just coming into work." He shrugged, playing it cool, but there was a hint of a playful smile on his lips.

"You know what I mean." She said, crossing her arms and glancing at William as he also signed his sheet.

"Fine, you caught me. I'm coming into work with my boyfriend." He shrugged and handed the sheet back over to her, "Now that you know, there is no reason for rumors to get out of hand, don't you think?"

William's heart was pounding, but on the outside he was the very picture of calm. He'd chosen this. Ten years ago, he'd made the decision to stop denying himself the pleasure of a relationship. Perhaps part of the cause of people's surprise was because he was known as the reaper who put work before everything. They probably couldn't imagine him having time for a relationship outside of it.

Reminding himself that he and Ronald had  _both_  kept it a secret for long enough, William politely handed his card back and he walked with Ronald to the elevators. The moment the doors closed, he exhaled and braced himself with his free hand on the support rail against the wall. He hadn't even thought to ask Alan or Eric where their guests were at.

"Hey, you okay?" Ron asked as he reached out to rub William's shoulder, comfortingly, "If this is too fast, we can slow it down… We don't have to start with hand-holding…we could…you know, start with just taking coffee breaks together rather than sneaking them into your office under the guise that I messed up some paperwork?"

William laughed under his breath before he could temper it. "I think it's a bit late for that now, Ronald. We've announced our relationship publicly and by this afternoon, everyone will know."

He took a slow breath and straightened up, looking at his lover with a peculiar feeling of giddiness. "No. If subtle introduction was what I truly wanted, I could have easily declined your hold on my hand. Just as you've grown, I believe I have to...though in other ways. Let them talk. I do believe I've been working my way up to this point for far too long, and the proverbial cat is out of the bag, now. I just need a moment to...adjust."

Ronald nodded and rested his chin on Will's shoulder. Neither one of them had pushed the button, and frankly, he didn't want to be the one to do it. He was slightly worried it would make him dizzy, even if they were only going up to the second floor.

He closed his eyes and inhaled his lover's scent, nuzzling his neck with his nose and cheek, "I could try to help calm you."

William turned his head, his lips brushing against the shorter reaper's soft yellow-gold hair. "I hardly think shagging in the elevator on the first day you've returned to work is conductive to your recovery. Not to mention, we don't really need to make our relationship quite that publicly known."

A soft smirk curved his lips though, and he put an arm around Ronald's waist.

"Who said anything about shagging?" Ron smirked, "Where is your mind this morning, Will? I had been thinking of rubbing your shoulders and back for you. It seemed to work somewhat last time I tried. I'm not the best, I know, but you get so tensed up so easy. Besides, Sex in the lift? Not exactly classy, Mister William T. Sexy."

The supervisor flushed a little at the nickname. "I was merely going by past experiences of how you've...calmed me down." He caressed Ronald's jaw and he urged his head back, so that he could bestow a brief kiss on his lips.

Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was some divine being's idea of a joke, but that was the moment when the elevator doors slid open. William released Ronald's lips and he looked to see Grell Sutcliff standing there, looking stunned.

The redhead's jaw was hanging open, his eyes wide, and his finger pointing at the two reapers he'd just caught snogging in the lift. Given, it wasn't a rare scene to find in the lifts when the doors parted with a ding, but never—never even once—was one of those people the cold, emotionless William Spears.

His eyes shifted from William to Ronald, then back again. For once, words failed him until the doors tried to close on him, bumping each of his shoulders before reopening again, and giving him back his tongue.

" _Ehhhh_?!"

William sighed. "Oh, honestly. Sutcliff, do stop standing there like a gargoyle. I...that is, we..."

He sputtered into silence, having no idea of what to say. He looked at Ronald, hoping the normally witty blond could come up with something where he had failed. No help there; Ronald seemed to have all the cognizance of the mustard seeds people so often compared his hair color to. He was staring at Grell with the same half-guilty, half-stupefied expression that William was sure he wore on his own face.

"We've got this," muttered a voice from behind Grell. Eric pushed his way in, forcing Grell into the elevator as well. "Al? We could use your diplomacy skills about now." he wedged his foot by one door to keep them open for his husband.

"Really, Eric? You're dragging us into this?" Alan asked as he stepped onto the now full lift, the doors closing behind him.

Ronald finally seemed to shake some of his guilty shock and he stepped forward, tapping Grell's chin to make him close his mouth, "It's not attractive to catch flies like that, Senpai."

The blond sighed, "Senpai, I know y—"

"What is it with all the good men!" Grell finally snapped, "Eric-sweetie runs off and gets hitched with Alan, Sebby goes and—disappears who-knows-where! Unnie-darling starts banging Frenchy McShorty-pants, and now Willy is snogging Ronnie-boy in the bloody lift?!"

While the three of them began to argue, Eric leaned over towards his partner and he pushed a random floor button, his accent returning as he tried to explain. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I didnae want ta leave Grell standing there makin' a scene...nor did I want someone else tryin' ta take tha same lift."

"Grell Sutcliff, I will not have you disrupting this office with your—" William was saying...but it was all starting to blend together as he, Ronald and Grell all tried to talk at once.

"It's not like He's a bagged lunch with your name on it!" Ronald protested.

"I've been after his heart before you were born human!" Grell countered

"Him and every other guy! Will can make his own choices!"

The lift slowed to a stop to open it's doors to let on someone else who had called for it. The argument escaping into the quiet offices. Alan looked at the librarian and shook his head, "You don't want to get on…" he said, pulling Eric off, though it wasn't the floor they needed, "And I don't want to stay, we can catch the next one up."

The doors closed and the lift continued up without the three arguing men taking notice.

"…That was rather loud…that's unlike this place every other time I've been here." Jase observed from where he and Chronus were waiting to go see the probation officer.

The lift continued up towards the top floors, and Ronald's shouting started to fade, his head starting to spin and his vision getting fuzzy with black spots. Without a word, he lowered himself to the floor, leaning over and resting his cheek against William's knee. As his hearing became muffled.

William stopped his argument abruptly, looking down at his lover in a fit of concern he could not disguise. He ran his fingers through the younger reaper's feathered blond locks. "Ronald?"

He cast an angry glare at Grell before kneeling down. Thankfully, the redhead had also halted his shrill protests upon seeing the reaper he'd trained from a fledgling collapse. William sat down on the floor beside Ronald and he put an arm around him. He hadn't even realized they were moving so far up.

"Ronald, I'm going to halt the elevator now and call for medical assistance."

"What's wrong with him?" Grell frowned, bending over to look at Ronald's alarmingly pale face as William hit the emergency stop button.

Ronald groaned, barely hearing the two other reapers talking as he struggled to stay conscious. Why was he so dizzy? They were still on the ground floor—right?

"He's just been released from the hospital from a severe head wound, you idiot," snapped William, reaching for his scythe. He extended it with flawless precision, the tip poking the elevator's stop button. The elevator came to a halt, and the brunet put away the reaping tool and combed Ronald's bangs out of his eyes.

"Ronald, I'm calling for help now," he said in a steady voice that might have been remarkable for anyone under the circumstances save him. He reached for his phone. "Try to keep your vision focused on something. The doctors said that would be helpful, should this occur."

"Well I didn't know! I'm not an idiot, Will! You are! Why are you making him come to work like this?! He should be resting! Rhea Forbid! This is cold, even for you. He's your boyfriend now, right? You're supposed to take care of him not make him go so white I can nearly see through him!"

William shot another venomous glare at the redhead as he dialed for help and put the phone to his ear. "I'll have you know that it was  _his_  decision, Sutcliff. I don't intend to waste time with you explaining...yes, hello?" He paused his argument with Grell to answer the voice that picked up on the other line. "This is Dispatch Supervisor, William T. Spears. I am in elevator number three on floor thirteen. A...colleague has collapsed in here and he requires immediate medical attention. I have halted the elevator. Please come quickly. Yes, thank you."

William hung up and he focused his attention on Ronald, putting aside his annoyance with Grell in favor of following the advice given to him by medical dispatcher. "Ronald, are you suffering blurred vision?" He held up two fingers. "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

William was talking to him, he could hear the muffled tone of his lover. He raised his eyes, vision still spotted with moving spots of black, squinting as he tried to read Will's lips to help make sense of the muffled sounds.

"He doesn't seem to be understanding you…" Grell muttered, kneeling down, "His choice or not, you could have told him no and made him stay in bed!"

"For once, you're right," William admitted, his tension finally leaking into his voice, "but that's no good to him now. Do shut the hell up and let me concentrate."

He spoke to Ronald again, his voice softening as he looked into the blond's disoriented eyes. "Help is coming, Ronald."

He squeezed his hands, assailed with guilt. How could he have allowed this to happen? He'd had his doubts that the stubborn boy was ready to resume his work, but he'd caved in an effort to show him that he trusted his judgment. This was the fruit of his labor; a lover at risk and an irate associate, stuck in an elevator when he could have bloody-well avoided the scenario entirely by putting his foot down. He could see that Ronald was at least somewhat aware...the flickering eyes kept trying to focus on him.

"I'm sorry," mouthed William—just as the elevator doors opened to admit medical staff. He stood up and adjusted his glasses in a habitual reaction to emotional duress, and he yanked Grell aside to give them room.

"He has not responded to questions," he informed them stiffly, "but I believe he could understand me."

"…Knox…didn't we warn him about going up too high, too fast with his head injury?" asked one of the staff as they got to work.

"Reckless as always…come on, let's get him back down. We'll take the stairs slowly so it doesn't make it worse."

They put Ronald on a stretcher and carried him to the stairwell.

"Mister Spears? Follow us please." Another said, waiting for William to join them in their descent, "Would it be possible for him to work on one of the lower floors for a few days?"

"I was actually about to arrange that," confirmed William. He glared at Grell. "Until I was interrupted."

His anger was directed more at himself than at the crimson reaper, though. He'd gone to the elevator because it had offered a reprieve from the stares and whispers, not thinking anything of it. Part of it was Slingby's fault too, for pushing the buttons for the upper levels when in truth, William had just been ready to suggest the stairs to level two.

He followed the medics without another word to Grell, feeling sick with uncommon guilt. He no longer cared what people thought. His mind was on Ronald's condition, and the alarming way the boy hadn't responded to him when he'd inquired about his cognizance."

The medic nodded and when they reached the ground floor they exited the stairwell and found a nearby private room with a couch where they lay Ronald out and continued their examination.

Slowly, Ronald began to feel better, and he was able to sit up, his vision and hearing returning to normal.

"You need to take things easy for a few days, Mister Knox." A medic told him, "No elevators, no going higher than the second floor of any buildings, rest if you feel the slightest hint of being dizzy—drink water, and no fast movements."

William stood over the blond, and he nudged Grell's uninvited presence aside. "Ronald, I'm afraid I must insist that you follow the doctor's orders. You honestly should be at home resting right now, but if you insist upon staying here, I shall arrange the appropriate accommodations."

He gave Ronald a brief wink, hoping he would catch on. He would have preferred for the blond to go home and rest, but he'd learned that not all things were up to him in their relationship. He wasn't sure whether he'd prefer Ronald stay there where he could keep an eye on him or go back to his flat and forget about the workload for a day.

"I was trying. I didn't make the lift go up…All I know was Grell-senpai was freaking out at us and then I was on the ground…" he smirked, "But I don't think it was his fault." He rubbed his head, closing his eyes, "…But I think I should take a later shift if I work today…that took a lot out of me…"

William exchanged a glance with Grell. "Then rest, Knox. You've earned it."

"In that case we will take him to either the dispatch infirmary or back to the hospital so he can be monitored for the next few hours after this episode." One of the medics stated.

Now that he was sure his lover would be taken care of, William pulled Grell aside for a word. He exited the room, practically dragging his protesting quarry, and he spoke to him softly outside the ward.

"It's been going on for over ten years now," admitted William softly, "and it had nothing to do with you. Ronald still looks up to you. I would consider it a personal favor if you would not hold it against him."

Grell crossed his arms, his fingers thrumming against his arm in annoyance, "Ten years—and you never once thought to tell me you weren't available anymore? All those times I flirted and you pushed me away like normal? Ronnie—Ronnie I had a feeling was seeing someone, at least. He all of a sudden stopped his casual dating. But you lead me on! That's cold, Will…and not just to me. Ronnie had to watch that, you know! Watch me hanging off his boyfriend!" he dropped his arms to his sides and approached William, reaching up and cupping his cheek, "You were supposed to be my soul mate, Will…but you're an ass for letting me think I still had a chance! Ten years…do you know how many potential men I could have met had I known?"

"Never once did I give you any indication that I felt the same, or that you had a chance." William pushed his hand away from his cheek, beyond tired of it all. "Nothing changed in my behavior toward you, Sutcliff. You simply cannot take 'no' for an answer, and the blame for that lies squarely on your shoulders. Had I known that informing you I was in a relationship was what it would take to make you finally back off, I might have said something; but I should not need to do so in order for you to accept my rejection of your advances. Stop behaving like a spoiled brat. Every man you desire is not stamped with a 'property of Grell Sutcliff' marker."

Still, he felt unreasonably guilty. Grell considering him his soul mate was much deeper than he'd imagined his infatuation to be. He sighed. "For what it's worth, I had no intention of hurting you. I've always considered your advances to be a symptom of an impulsive need to flirt with every man you find attractive. It was never anything personal."

"I do not flirt with every attractive man I see." Grell crossed his arms, "I flirt with attractive men that happen to be my type—strong hotties that can hold their own in a fight with me—or even best me. I'm not into weaklings I'd need to save if something happens." He turned away, "And it does hurt, regardless of your intentions. I'm only not making a big deal about it because Ronnie's like a little brother to me."

William nodded. "Good, then we'll speak no more of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to see how Ronald is fairing."

He turned his back on the redhead and he went back into the room to speak with Ronald. The boy was resting in a sitting position, sipping on a cup of ice water they had given him. William approached and he sat down beside him with a sigh. "I'm afraid I need to get up to my office and begin the day, Ronald. Stay and rest until you feel steady enough on your feet, and then call me when you decide what you want to do. I don't recommend working."

He allowed himself a brief show of affection, reaching out to comb the younger reaper's bangs back from his eyes.

"Well…" Ron sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back, "I tried to stand up and I got dizzy again, so I think I'm stuck here for now. Don't forget about me down here." he added with a smile, "Maybe come back around lunch time?"

William nodded. "Absolutely."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	8. Chapter 8

Undertaker and Jase got showed into Holtz's office, and they found the unpleasant reaper lounging back in his high-back leather desk chair. The door closed behind them with a sound of finality that had the mortician stepping in front of his small companion, instinctively putting his body between him and the probation officer. Holtz kept going over his paperwork, puffing a pipe as he read through it. He clearly knew they were there, but he seemed intent on conveying the message that their presence was not significant enough to drag him away from his read.

Chronus cleared his throat. The other reaper glanced up at him, and he took his time putting the paperwork back on his desk and sitting up straight. "Good of you to come," remarked Holtz. "Please, have a seat."

Chronus waited for Jase to sit down before joining him. "We won't be staying long, old chap. Just dropping in to let you know we've got a temporary change of residency, until this angel business in France clears up."

"Hmm, yes...the angels. I understand they were after someone specific. That seems to be what all of the reports say. You've had personal experience with their kind, haven't you Mr. Dubois?"

Chronus' lips tightened. The man bloody-well knew that already. He was fishing for something.

Jase frowned, but nodded, humoring the man with answering a question, "Yes, I have. And I'd not like to again which is one reason we have temporarily left my home country." He took Undertaker's hand and gave it a squeeze, sensing how annoyed his lover was with the probation officer, "Mister Humphries and Mister Slingby have allowed us to use their spare room, so you will be able to find us there."

"Was there any immediate danger to you from these angels?" pressed Holtz. "The attack happened in Paris. You live out in the provincial countryside, a full day's carriage ride from there."

Chronus glanced at his spouse uncertainly. He knew that the Slingphries had to report the incident at their home, but he hoped to bollocks they and Spears had the sense not to mention the angel's fixation on Jase. "I'm sure your associates have already told you that one of those rabid peacocks trespassed on us and attacked the Slingphries and my Jase while I was out. Stop beating around the bush, Quinton. What are you leading up to? I haven't violated any of the constraints of my probation and we've checked in with our whereabouts."

"I'm just curious as to why they chose to attack one lonesome cottage, so far away from the target they had converged on," said Holtz coldly, "and as for whether you've violated your probation or not, I'm still not convinced my...condition upon my last visit was merely a coincidence."

Undertaker grinned and shrugged. "You ought to consider changing your diet, then. I've done nothing wrong, and as far as I know the stray that attacked our home was just seeking refuge from a demon and saw two Shinigami as a threat. You know they were killing demons in Paris as well as 'cleansing' mortals, don't you?"

"Yes, but let's face it, Death...your husband isn't exactly either one of those. I wonder if they came to rectify a mistake and—"

Undertaker stood up before the man could finish speaking, and he was looming over him with a ghastly, menacing smile. "Finish that sentence, Officer Holtz, and I may give you a reason to report me."

"Chronus!" Jase stood up and stepped in front of him, placing his hands on his chest to try and calm him. "Please, I don't want to loose you to jail time again!" he pleaded, "He's trying to rile you up, you know that." He guided his lover back down into his seat, and then turned to look at Holtz, leaning over his desk.

Chronus had to watch himself, but Jase was free to speak his mind.

"I don't care that I'm not human any longer. That I'm the only one of my kind in the world now that all the other bizarre dolls have been exterminated. So what if my existence is not natural like a mortal or any of the three supernatural races? I'm still a living soul like anyone, and therefore, I'm not a 'mistake' or an 'abomination'. Your past with my husband doesn't matter. His past crimes doesn't matter. We both deserve to be treated with respect. Chronus has been putting forth a valiant effort to follow the rules of his probation; I'd appreciate it if you would at least put forth half that much effort to stop trying to push his boundaries. –that's my job!"

"You state your case with passion, if not eloquence," muttered Holtz grudgingly. "How this lunatic ended up with someone so compassionate and level-headed, I'll never know."

The mortician grinned widely. "Ah, but I'm a  _charming_  lunatic."

Holtz harrumphed. "That would depend on who you ask."

Undertaker nodded at his husband. "His is the only opinion I honestly care about. Now, was there something else you wanted from us?"

The probation officer was caught, and he knew it. He had no proof that Chronus had done anything wrong. "You should have rung me up and informed me of your whereabouts immediately," he finally said in a sullen tone. "I'm making a note of it that you waited until the next day to see fit to do so."

Undertaker sighed, and he put a hand on Jase's shoulder and shook his head when the Frenchman parted his lips with obvious outrage. "Not worth it, love. You'd be better off reasoning with a box of rocks. Let him get his jollies and if they ask, we'll just explain to them that we had bigger concerns on our mind at the time. Let's go, before my patience runs out."

"But it's not fair when you know had we called him right away he would have been upset over the late time of evening!" The doll scowled, still quite heated, but he settled down when his lover gave him a gentle smile and caressed his cheek. He still didn't like what Holtz was doing, but Undertaker was right. There was little they could do about it.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Undertaker began to usher his companion to the elevators. "Let's be going now, Jase. I don't fancy my chances of getting out of here unquestioned, once Holtz reports that I got in his face. Sorry, love."

He pushed the button twice and cast a suspicious look around them as he waited for the elevator. He would have portaled them both out, but any unauthorized use of teleportation within headquarters might raise alarms. Not that they had any reason to actually  _detain_  him, but he really didn't feel like explaining himself further to Dispatch authorities and he didn't want to put Jase in the position of having to come to his defense again.

"In we go," urged Chronus as soon as the doors opened. He patted the Frenchman's little tush to hurry him along, ignoring his blushing protests. He breathed easier once they were in the elevator and he pushed the button for the ground floor. "If ever I was truly mad, it was when I actually considered coming back to this organization."

"I'm really starting to dislike that man." Jase grumbled, watching the lights as they descended. He leaned over, resting his shoulder against his lover's arm, "But I have the feeling he also thinks they were after me."

Chronus nodded. "I have that same feeling, my dear. I won't allow him to try and pin the blame for this angelic stupidity on you, though. You're an innocent, and if anyone's to blame for their fixation on you, it's me."

He took the opportunity to bend down, cup Jase's chin and give him a brief, tender kiss on the mouth. "And I wouldn't have done a thing different, if I could turn the clock back and change my actions. This old kook loves you so."

The fluffy moment was interrupted as the elevator stopped at a mid floor and the doors opened to admit Eric and Alan. The Scotsman nudged his partner and sighed with relief. "There you two are," he said, stepping in with Alan. "We've just finished turning in our reports and we've been searching all over the building for you."

"Something wrong?" Undertaker did his best to look innocent.

Eric snorted, his accent changing as the doors slid shut again. "Dinnae put on tha' halo, old man. It's as crooked as can be. Word's already out tha' yer probation officer is raisin' a fuss o'er yeh loomin' at him in his office, but Al and meself put in a good word for yeh an' William's going ta speak wi' tha Board about re-assigning yeh to ano'er probation officer. It's obvious he's no' impartial enough ta stay on yer case. Besides tha', we've got other news ta tell yeh concernin' tha culling of Paris. We can talk about it once we get home."

Undertaker looked at Jase, not finding the foreboding tone in Eric's voice particularly comforting.

* * *

 

Back at Eric and Alan's home, the four sat out on the porch in the sunlight. Alan curled up against Eric on the rocking bench, Jase and Undertaker sitting together in a chair, Jase on his lover's lap so that they could cuddle as they discussed what the two working reapers had found out.

"Paris had been a planned cleansing." Alan was saying with a sigh as he rested his head against his husband's shoulder, "And from what we heard, it isn't over, and we can not interfere. We didn't overhear the reasons that the Angels have done this, but it's not over."

Jase sighed, "Are they sticking to France?"

"It's unknown. But it seems you'll be staying with us for an unknown amount of time."

Undertaker reflexively held his companion more tightly. "Those angels threaten to make me look like a sane man, in their pursuit."

Eric nodded solemnly, absently hugging Alan closer. "Aye. Sorry ta be tha bearers of bad news."

Chronus sighed and shrugged. "I thought that something like this might happen, eventually. There's really no preparing for it, though."

"None, whatsoever." Alan agreed, "They have no pattern to their actions, and once they get an idea in their head, they pursue it to the end."

"I think I preferred it when we were on the run from you reapers than hiding from the Angels…" Jase sighed. Of course, on a personal level, Angels were more of a threat, while the reapers had simply been after a fair trial—as it turned out.

"Cannae say I blame yeh," Eric said with a smirk. "It's widely believed by other supernaturals an' tha few mortals tha' know about us tha' we Shinigami are all at least a little cracked, but if yeh ask meh, I'd say tha winged host are tha craziest ones of us all."

Undertaker snorted and sipped his brandy. "No arguments there, chap. None at all." He glanced at his spouse. "Thanks for putting up with us, for Jase's sake if nothing else. He's spent enough time on the run from people out to get him or me. I hate to abandon our house again, but if it means keeping their greedy hands off my Jase, so be it. Now, what's the news on our dear Mr. Holtz? You mentioned he was raising a fuss and Mr. Spears is—"

Eric's work phone began to go off at that moment, and the Scotsman excused himself and picked it up to answer with his pseudo British accent. "Eric Slingby." His gaze flicked to the mortician. "Yes sir, he's here. I'm looking right at him. Do you want to speak with him yourself? Right, one moment."

He handed the device over to Chronus. "It's Supervisor Spears. He wants to talk to you about what happened in Holtz's office today."

Chronus sighed and took the phone. "Of course he does." He put the phone to his ear and smiled. "Hi, hi, Mr. Spears. How are you this fine day?"

"I'm well, thank you," answered the supervisor politely. "I apologize for the intrusion, but I must clear something up before I have my board meeting. Did you threaten Officer Holtz when you reported in to him?"

Undertaker shrugged. "Depends on what you consider a threat, chap."

"Please don't be ambiguous. According to Mr. Holtz, you got in his face and threatened violence in his office."

"He insulted my husband," explained the ancient, "so I advised him to shut it before I gave him a  _reason_  to put marks on my record against me. I never specified anything, and I didn't lay so much as a pinky-nail on the sour old fart."

"Wonderful," sighed William. "Well, I suppose I shall have to wing it, then. I'm going to attempt to clear this up and convince the board to assign you another parole officer. Please remember sir that your current freedom is not a right, but a privilege. Shinigami authorities can withdraw it and put out an order that you serve the rest of your term in prison, if you test them. Please do yourself and your husband a favor, and avoid future confrontations with Mr. Holtz or whomever they decide to assign to your case."

"As long as they don't threaten or insult Jase, I can manage that," answered the mortician. "I don't suppose Holtz will get so much as a slap on the wrist for being a cunt, eh?"

William cleared his throat uncomfortably at the crude insult. "I shall see to it the board is aware of his...attitude toward you, sir, but you need to meet me halfway. Do we have an agreement?" He said the last in an almost patronizing tone, as if speaking to a willful child.

Chronus didn't take offence; well-aware that he could be quite the brat. "Sounds fair enough to me. Keep us updated."

"Very good, sir. Have a pleasant day."

William hung up then, and Chronus handed the phone back to Eric. He winced at Jase's admonishing, gape-mouthed stare. "Sorry for the language, love. You know my mouth has a tendency of speaking my mind before I can temper it." Alan likewise appeared scandalized at the use of such a vulgar adjective in reference to Holtz, but Eric looked like he could burst into laughter at any second.

Eric coughed into his hand before speaking. "Might want ta curb tha vulgarities in tha future, Chronus...especially when dealing with Spears."

Undertaker grinned a little sheepishly and spread his hands. "I wouldn't want to give the man a nosebleed."

Jase sighed, "I thought you were getting better about your language—at least when I'm within ear-shot. I'm almost tempted to wash your mouth out with soap for that comment about Mister Holtz." He said, pinching Undertaker's cheek and giving it a little tug.

Alan snickered, "I'd help hold him down if you chose to follow through."

"Better watch it, old man," said Eric with a grin. "They're plotting against yeh."

Undertaker heaved a mock sigh. "The goody-goods usually do—ouch! No pinching, love...I'll call spousal abuse!"

"That's not true, and you know it!" Jase stated, "And even if you did, who would they believe? The gigantic reaper with a criminal record—or the almost child-like former priest?" he smirked playfully.

"Size can be deceiving," countered the mortician with a grin, rubbing the spot where Jase had pinched him.

"Tha's certainly tha truth," agreed Eric, giving his partner a meaningful squeeze around the waist.

They all had a hearty laugh over it, and for a little while, they were able to put thoughts of rampaging angels and perpetually angry parole officers out of their minds.

* * *

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have requested this meeting to discuss the parole situation with Legendary Death, alias Chronus Undertaker," William began, and he offered a stack of documents to the nearest board member. "Please take one and pass it down. These are each copies of the latest complaints filed by Officer Holtz. As you all know, the Undertaker's previous probation officers were Alan Humphries and Eric Slingby—but they ordered to step down when it became apparent that their personal relationship with the subject and his spouse might create a conflict of interest."

"Yes Mr. Spears," said an auburn-haired woman, "we are aware of this. Tell us what this has to do with Officer Holtz, please."

William adjusted his glasses and nodded. "Certainly. If personal relationship with the subject is indeed a consistent factor, then I believe Mr. Holtz is no longer qualified to be his probation officer. You will find two more documents attached to the top one. The first is a brief record dating back to the dark ages. This is a copy of both Mr. Holtz' Dispatch certificate and the Undertaker's. As you can see, they were both instructors during this time, and evaluation reports state that they did not get on well. The final copy of documentation is a report turned in by Holtz himself, over fifty years ago. He states that Death refused to relinquish his scythe as ordered, when he led a team to his abode to retrieve it. They fought, and Holtz was one of the only two reapers involved that could still walk away, when it was over. He was responsible for the scars on the Undertaker's face and throat; in fact, he admits to attempting a beheading in this report. As you know, Dispatch determined it was a lost cause to attempt to confiscate Death's scythe again, because he had become too attuned to it."

William circled around the long table slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Holtz has begun to make unfounded accusations against Chronus. He has no proof that he tried to 'poison' him during his last inspection, and I believe if that was the Undertaker's intention, he would have done so the very first time Holtz visited his home."

"Are you accusing Mr. Holtz of falsified claims?" questioned one of the men at the table.

This was the delicate part. William knew he needed to tread lightly, or he could get accused of slandering an associate. "I believe that Mr. Holtz believes in his own accusations wholeheartedly, but that does not make them true. He has a long history with Chronus and I feel it's begun to affect his ability to be impartial in his assigned task. Therefore, I request that he be removed as his parole officer and replaced with someone else, as per the protocol behind suitable candidates."

There were murmurs as the board discussed the situation and read over the documents provided for them. "You gathered all of this information rather quickly in a short amount of time, Spears," observed one of them in an impressed tone, "but then, we are used to your efficiency and speed in the office."

"And your sense of professionalism," added the auburn-haired woman.

The board members looked around at one another thoughtfully, and William suddenly began to feel like a bug beneath a magnifying glass.

* * *

 

"Perfect," snapped William a half an hour later as he strode into Ronald's hospital room, carrying a sacked lunch in each hand from the cafeteria. "Just...bloody...perfect."

His jaw was clenched so tightly that his teeth were grinding together.

"Oooh, You don't sound happy—please tell me that it has nothing to do with our lunch? –or lunch break… or anything to do with me being stuck here longer…" Ronald said, setting down the papers he was going over that William had sent to him to work on if he felt up to it after he was checked back into the hospital to be monitored. He hadn't been working on it long, and had only gone over a few pages, but he had gotten bored just taking naps and laying in bed watching outside his window.

"I just left the board meeting I arranged in regards to the Undertaker's probation," explained William, handing over Ronald's lunch bag. "I explained to them that Mr. Holtz can no longer be relied upon as an impartial parole officer, given his history with Chronus and his obvious dislike of him. It was decided that he should be replaced with someone that will not put personal feelings before work...someone dependable, dedicated and efficient at his job."

William's expression soured even further.

"So…I'm guessing I didn't get the job?" Ron smirked, taking out the contents of the bag and setting it all on the tray he had previously been working on.

"No," answered William succinctly. "I did. You are now looking at the Undertaker's new probation officer."

He may as well have just announced that he was assigned to scrub toilets, for all the enthusiasm he showed.

"Don't look so bummed… It can't be all that bad. The old loon is your idol, right?" The blond leaned over and grabbed Will's arm, pulling him down to sit next to him on the bed, kissing his cheek, "Plus, it didn't look like all that much work when Alan-senpai was his probation officer."

"Alan wasn't trying to run this department and keep everyone in line whilst doing it," William pointed out. "Unfortunately, he and Eric cannot be expected to take on some of my office duties to take up the slack. Grell is hopeless right now, angry as he is, and I can't very well put some of my duties off on you, while you are recovering from a severe head injury. I honestly wonder sometimes if the board forgets that I'm a reaper; not an automation."

He sighed and allowed himself a rare moment of weakness, laying his head on Ronald's shoulder. "This is what I get for setting out to become a prodigy. Yes, the Undertaker is my inspiration...my idol...and now I begin to suspect he went mad in the first place because he took on too much work. Soon I'll be joining him, baking cookies shaped like body parts and snickering at cracks in the walls."

And how in the  _world_  was he to acquire the time off for his plans, with this additional responsibility?

"My head will only keep me out of commission for a few more days, then I'll be back and drowning at my desk as I normally am, and free to have my boyfriend dump more work on me." He gave a playful smirk, "And then we'll go back to your apartment and I'll make you forget all about being the London supervisor…I'll let you simply be my lover until we pass out in the moonlight and sleep until you force me to get up way too early. You'll be fine, you'll see. But…if you do crack, I'll make sure to give you more things to giggle over than just cracks in the walls. Maybe we'll get a plant that looks funny."

The brunet nearly cracked a smile, lifting his head from his lover's shoulder. "Funny looking plants. You're meant to discourage madness, not embrace it."

He sighed and reached for his cafe bag. "Well then, let's attempt to enjoy our lunch together."

He reached into the bag to procure his sandwich, and he watched Ronald from the corner of his eye as he unwrapped it. The blond seemed quite pleased to get something besides hospital food—particularly his favorite sandwich from their branch's cafeteria. One thing William could say in Dispatch's favor was that they offered quality food to their agents. The freshness of the bread and the cut of the meat wasn't what made this particular sandwich special, though.

William very nearly began to fidget as he waited for Ronald to notice the gold, amber-studded band pinned to the bread beneath a toothpick-skewered olive. Perhaps this wasn't the ideal time to propose, but given his ever-expanding schedule it was a forgone conclusion that there might never  _be_  and ideal time.

"Why would I do that? To me, that implies that I would dump you if you started giggling at cracks. I'm being a supportive boyfriend here. I'll love you even if you end up just like that crazy old geezer." Ronald shrugged, picking up his sandwich and unwrapping it, not even glancing at it before he sank his teeth into it.

He hummed, leaning back against the pillows supporting him as he chewed, "Oh hey, no pickles this time. Sweet." He smiled. He wasn't a fan of pickles on his sandwiches but he always—always forgot to order no pickles when he went down to get lunch, and he always forgot to look before taking his first bite.

"You remember better than I do!" He chuckled, "You're the best." He took another bite, his teeth clamping down around the small band of gold. The blond froze, "What the…"

Pulling his sandwich back, the ring and toothpick fell from his lips and the sandwich onto his lap along with a few crumbs. He set his lunch aside and picked up the ring, looking at it, "What is..?"

William put his sandwich down and dropped his face into his palm. "Thank you, Slingby...that worked charmingly."

He wasn't expecting Ronald to just start eating without noticing it, but he supposed the olive concealed it enough for him to miss it. The supervisor sighed, and he looked at his lover's bewildered, questioning young face. His own face heated as he cleared his throat. "I intended to ask on the vacation I wish to arrange, but with this added workload, I'm not certain I can reserve the time off for us. The idea came to me when agent Slingby started to babble about creative ways to propose. Ordinarily I would never resort to such a ridiculous tactic, but I...after your collapse, I decided not to wait."

He struggled with himself as Ronald kept staring at him. Was it hope he saw in those eyes? Or had he just made such a huge ass of himself that Ronald was stricken dumb? "Oh, bloody hell. Ronald, I want to take the pledge with you. I want you to be my husband."

"…Holy Titty-fucking scythe!" Ronald finally gasped out after a long pause of silence built up between them. Not the most graceful of things to say—especially in the current situation of his lover proposing to him. It was beyond serious. The amount of commitment that came from asking such a thing as a reaper… It was an ancient ritual that many lovers never take because of how unbreakable it was. It took a lot of true love to ask such a thing—to literally make themselves soul mates.

And after William proposed just that, all he could respond with was a cuss even he was embarrassed of spilling from his lips. The ring slipped from his fingers, settling in his lap again as he stared unblinkingly at William, his cheeks heating as his emotions began to swirl and mix within him.

"Shit—I mean—! William—I… Fuck." His words were jumbled and he fell silent, looking down at the ring he'd almost consumed. He needed to give William an answer, but it wasn't one he could rush. It was life-changing. And while his heart knew its answer, his brain and tongue were trapped in stupidity. "Sweet Styx… Will, I…"

Ronald took a deep breath, willing his mind to stop being broken.

He looked back up at William, reading the worried and terrified look in the man's eyes. He took a second deep breath and took William's hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing his fingers.

"I could have choked, you know…then you wouldn't have known I'd say yes."

William let the breath he'd been holding. "Heavens, don't frighten me like that," he sighed, beyond caring about displaying a moment of uncertainty and weakness. "Needless to say, this is not a thing I've ever requested of anyone before. You're...certain? If you need time to consider it..."

Ronald shook his head and yanked his lover into a heated kiss; assaulting his mouth greedily before pulling back with his response, "I have considered it—and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I mean, this is huge, and I'm still quite young in the way of reaper life-spans… But damn it, Will, I love you more than anything. I never expected to love you as much as I do when we first started dating. I want to be with you, William. And if you want to take our relationship to such a significant level—then I'll follow you there. Just—not this month. That's way too sudden for me seeing as the full moon is tonight and my head is kinda out of wack…I hear that taking the vow really is a rush, and I wouldn't want to pass out on ya."

William trembled with emotions too long held back. He returned Ronald's kiss with feeling and when he could breathe and think again, he pulled back to look him in the eye. "No, of course not. Think of this as an engagement. I was...visualizing something much different, of course. Nonetheless, how would you feel about taking our vows in Hawaii, after the sun sets? We could try to schedule the vacation during that time to have our honeymoon."

He felt like a fool, but his heart was singing. William couldn't recall the last time he'd felt so overjoyed.

"I've never been there…" Ron smiled, "So it'd be extra special to go there with you to take our vows…" He trailed off, searching the sheets for the dropped ring, and finding it, he held it up to really look at it for the first time.

"I hope you find it to your liking," William said, feeling strangely shy. He'd chosen yellow gold and had it inlaid with diamonds, figuring it might suit Ronald's coloring. It was elegant but masculine in design. "There is an engraving on the interior, too."

He'd had the jeweler put it in as an afterthought, and he flushed at the memory. The engraving simply said "my beloved".

"You know…You're cute when you act shy and romantic." Ronald smiled, holding up the ring and showing the engraving, "Come on, you should put this lovely ring you bought on your beloved's finger." He smirked, moving to straddle his lover, facing him. He took William's hand, replacing his sandwich with the ring and held out his own hand.

William took the ring with a dry smirk. "Enjoy it while it lasts, Knox."

His eyes were warm as they met his, though. He took the band and he slipped it over Ronald's ring finger. "Now, I shall formally request that you do me the honor of becoming my husband."

"Oh, my first yes wasn't enough for you?" Ronald smiled and kissed him, "I'll be honored to be your husband."

The blond ran his fingers through William's hair as they kissed, "But you made a mistake. Now I don't want to let my fiancé go back to work. I was ready to let my boyfriend go—but you're not my boyfriend anymore." He teased.

William's hands settled on the younger reaper's bottom possessively. "Well, in celebration of a successful proposal, I believe I can take an extended break to spend more time with my new intended."

He kissed him deeply, for once not caring about propriety. Ronald was his, and he had no intention of holding back his affection at a time like this.

The blond smiled, "I'd like that." He nearly giggled as he slid his hands along William's torso, moving them up to his shoulders before shifting to remove his suit jacket, pushing it down his arms to remove it. "Which means you can get more comfortable."

William allowed it, his gaze going heavy-lidded as Ronald helped him out of the blazer. "If only the door to this room would lock," he mused softly.

He slipped his arms out of the jacket and he draped it neatly over the visitor chair beside the bed. Once upon a time, he never would have even considered lusty shenanigans in a hospital or the office, but Ronald had a way of breaking down his constraints and making him forget propriety. More than once, the younger reaper ended up on top of his desk during work breaks—or bent over it, depending on how things went.

"…maybe if we are super quiet?" Ron suggested, wrapping his arms around William and resting his head on his shoulder, his lips pressing kisses to his lover's neck, "Or we cuddle and wait for them to let me go home with you where I can rock your world."

The brunet returned the embrace, smiling crookedly. "I must admit, it's a very tempting offer."

He kissed him again, all thoughts of work temporarily vanishing in the face of joy he never knew possible. Making a mental note to call and inform Eric or Alan about his new role as probation officer, he focused for the moment on the blond in his arms.

* * *

 

Eric couldn't stop laughing once he got off the phone. He shook his head and held a finger up when he walked into the living room and got curious stares from his partner and guests. When he could catch his breath again, he explained.

"Tha' was Spears, a moment ago. Guess who yer new probation officer is, Chronus."

"If you say Grell, I'll be leaping out that window over there," warned the mortician with a pointing gesture at the window. "Or a higher one."

Eric shook his head again, still grinning. "Yeh might find it easier if it were. William himself'll be handling yer probation, from here on out. Seems tha board couldnae come up wi' anyone more responsible an' professional, at such short notice."

Undertaker started to smirk, raising a brow with interest. "So Chilly Willy's going to be the new taskmaster, eh? Not my ideal choice, but a far cry better than Holtz or Miss Sutcliff."

Eric chuckled again. "I've ne'er heard tha man so annoyed...but dinnae take it personal, Undertaker. I think it's tha added workload he's perturbed about."

"Well, he does take on an awful lot," agreed Chronus thoughtfully. "Mayhap it's just temporary and they'll find someone to replace him after a while. I must admit I wasn't all that fond of him in the beginning, but he's grown on me. I'd hate to see the young fellow worked into his grave."

"I'm glad it is Mister Spears and not the red one." Jase spoke up, "I have the feeling if it was Grell that I'd be keeping him off my husband the entire time. Mister Spears takes things seriously, but at least he'll be fair and keep his hands to himself."

"You could always invite Ronald to join William on his visits. Now that they are a little more public about their relationship, Ron seems to cause William to relax a little more. But I still highly suggest you refrain yourself from pranking him, Chronus." Alan stated, pulling Eric to sit down next to him. "Make things easy for him. He's stressed enough as it is and it's near impossible to convince him to take a vacation."

"In light of the fact that he worked so hard to help procure my freedom, I'll restrain myself," promised Undertaker. He dropped an arm casually around Jase's shoulder. "And this one will likely keep me in check, anyway."

Eric grinned at his spouse. "I know tha feeling."

"Don't rely on me too much. You have your ways of pulling pranks behind my back when I'm not looking. Like with Mister Holtz." Jase pointed out.

"And that time you somehow dyed Eric's hair pink while we were over at your place." Alan pointed out.

Undertaker grinned at Eric, who scrubbed his fingers through his leonine hair at the memory. "Ah, that was his own fault. He mistook the hibiscus extract for conditioning rinse."

"Well, yeh said tha' yeh use herbal rinses," huffed the Scotsman, "an' it was right there in tha medicine cabinet wi' tha shampoo!"

"That wasn't shampoo," snickered the mortician. "I checked after you came out looking like a faded poppy. That was wound ointment. You went to the wrong cabinet, chap. That's why I installed the toiletry shelf over the bathtub and started leaving the proper bottles out on them, after that."

"Humph...wha' do yeh use tha hibiscus stuff fer, anyhow?" Eric flushed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's got plenty of uses," explained the older reaper, still grinning with amusement. "It can be used to treat loss of appetite, colds, heart and nerve diseases, upper respiratory tract pain and inflammation, fluid retention, stomach irritation, and disorders of circulation; for dissolving phlegm; as a gentle laxative; and as a diuretic to increase urine output."

Eric's brows shot up. He probably should have known better than to ask about the properties of any of Chronus' various apothecary goods. "I had ta ask."

Undertaker chuckled. "It's also quite good in tea, jam, soups and sauces. You know, the Egyptians make a drink called Karkade with it."

"An' it apparently makes for good hair dye too," sighed Eric.

Chronus nodded. "Evidently. I wasn't expecting that, myself. I rather liked that shade of pink on you. Why, it almost matched the color your face is now!"

"Why me," groaned Eric.

Alan chuckled, "It was a pretty shade of pink." He said, "But I like you better as a blond."

"In Eric's defense, that cupboard is rather disorganized. I've had to have Chronus come help me find things in there multiple times." Jase spoke up, "Doesn't help that some are labeled in English, some French…and I think I've seen a few German labels in there as well."

"And some Swedish," added the mortician with a smile. "I confess, I forget to take into account that other people don't know my supplies backwards and forward like I do. I've never been much of an organizer, but Jase has inspired me to try and improve."

"Good, 'cause I dun' want ta end up wi' green hair next," mumbled Eric.

Undertaker's smile faltered slightly. "Could be we won't have a home for you chaps to visit for some time, after all. I'll try not to mix up my things with yours in the cabinets, while we're staying with you."

"'s no trouble," insisted Eric, "an' I'm sure tha angels aren't interested in yer home, if yeh aren't inside it."

Chronus looked at him soberly. "I've known angels to destroy dwellings in a fit of self-righteous fury when the target of their 'purifying' gets away. I suppose they think they're cleansing the taint by razing it."

Seeing Jase go pale, the mortician quickly tried to comfort him. "Er, I'm sure they won't do that to our home, though. Don't listen to me, darlin', I was just having a grim moment."

Jase gave a small nod, but it wasn't their home he was worried about. As time went on, it seemed more and more people were convinced that he was their target. –and if he was their target, everyone he cared about would also be in danger.

* * *

 

"The abomination escaped," stated Illaria to the council. "He seems to have vanished from the mortal plane completely, which means he has either been destroyed by someone or something else, or his Shinigami mate took him to the middle realm to protect him."

"Misguided reapers and their leniency towards corruption," sighed one of the angelic council members. "Continue the search."

"If the creature is indeed in the Shinigami realm," stated a female counselor with pale silver hair, "then there is little we can do. Trespassing in their realm against treaty could result in a conflict of power, if not an outright war."

"I would rather wage war on Hell's minions," said a blond male with agreement. "We should investigate further to discover the truth, and if the corrupted one and his fallen creator have indeed fled to the middle realm, then we should bide our time. So long as they remain there, they are the reapers' problem and not ours."

"But what if they should return to the mortal realm?" queried Illaria. "The reaper once called Death could spread his corruption again, if allowed."

"Then we will keep close watch," assured the head of the council. "Should they return, we will dispatch them immediately. I must agree with the other councilors though; we have no jurisdiction in the Shinigami realm and therefore have no recourse but to leave them there...if that proves to be their location.

Illaria went to one knee. "As the council directs. My fiery sword is yours, as always."

* * *

 

William couldn't say when he'd nodded off, but he came awake with a start when he nearly rolled out of the narrow hospital bed. He blinked in confusion and looked at his watch, well-aware of Ronald snuggled intimately up against him.

"Oh hells," gasped the brunet when he saw the time. He'd slept through the rest of the work day. It was nightfall.

"Mmmh…" Ronald—ever the stubborn sleeper—curled up further. His nose nuzzling into his lover's neck and his arms and legs wrapped around Will's body, pulling him closer.

William looked at him, torn. Nobody had called him, nor had they come in to disturb his rest. That surprised him. Not even Grell had contacted him, and the outrageous redhead was usually the first to get up his bum when he wasn't immediately available. It occurred to him that perhaps Ronald wasn't the only one to notice how overworked he was. Perhaps in Grell's case it was more a symptom of hurt feelings, but the rest of Dispatch may have just decided to leave him to his extended break out of sympathy or respect.

"I slept in," he muttered to his companion, sparing a kiss to the blond's forehead. "You're far too comfortable for your own good, you cuddling little fiend."

"Nnh…How many times have I told you that sleep is good and you need to stop interrupting it?" The sleepy blond breathed, "Have ya learned your lesson?" he teased, not really realizing that William had missed half a days work because of it.

The supervisor snorted with amusement before he could stop himself, and he cleared his throat in mortification at the sound he'd just made. "No need for apologies, Ronald. I allowed myself to get too comfortable and I neglected to set an alarm on my phone. I wasn't expecting to fall asleep in your arms."

"Well, I'm a comfortable guy to forget yourself around." Ron smirked, "But maybe we should have not cuddled so much…Knowing you, you'll give yourself overtime all night tomorrow to make up for it."

William smirked. Ronald knew him well. "I will try not to resort to that. I can go up to my office now and sort out any overdue paperwork. Perhaps it didn't get terribly backed up and I can manage it within an hour or so."

He gave the blond a brief kiss, and he reluctantly got out of the bed. "I'll see about taking you home when I finish, if the doctors will allow it."

"I'll be right here." Ronald stated, yanking William by the tie in for a second, longer kiss, "Probably doing work of my own for a bit since I was sleeping the day away as well. At least that was probably good for my head, getting all that rest." He smiled, letting his lover stand back up and reaching out to pat Will's butt when he turned to pull his blazer back on.

The older reaper gave a small start, and once upon a time he might have admonished him for such a freely displayed act of affection. Instead, William smirked down at him silently before leaving to see how backed up his workload was.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	9. Chapter 9

William went to the upper floors and found nobody around save the janitors, and he sighed as he went to his office. He'd neglected to lock the door when he left, so there was no paperwork waiting on the floor from the mail slot. They must have brought it directly to his desk. He looked at the piece of furniture with faint dread, spotting the piles of documents on it.

"Honestly," he sighed, guessing he was in for several hours of unpaid overtime. It was his own fault that his work had stacked up, so he couldn't in good conscience remain on the clock while he worked to amend that. He approached the desk with unenthusiastic anticipation, hoping the piled documents were at least easy ones to approve or complete and file away. He frowned when he reached the desk, for there was a slip of pink stationery with red roses framing it on top. He picked it up and recognized Grell's flowing script in red ink, and he squinted a little to read the red-on-pink text.

_Will,_

_I took the liberty of filling out the paperwork that came for you while you were out. Not that I think you deserve the consideration right now, but I believe it would make all our lives easier if you are not stuck with more overtime. You're welcome._

_-Grell Sutcliff_

William lowered the note, stricken by feelings of guilt that he thought were illogical. He'd never done anything to encourage Grell's affections that he knew of, but the redhead took the oddest things as flirtation. They'd known each other nearly their entire reaper lives, and though he never admitted it, the brunet harbored some affection for Sutcliff, deep down. A very subtle, nostalgic smile curved his lips and he sighed.

"It seems I have some things to atone for," he murmured. The question was, what gesture of kindness could he make toward Grell to try and make up for hurting him, without giving him the wrong idea?

He sighed and filed the finished paperwork away before leaving and locking up. He returned to the infirmary and arranged for Ronald's release, promising the medical staff that he would not overwork him or attempt to bring him to the upper floors when he felt well enough to return for some light duty.

* * *

 

The next day, Undertaker made a decision. He cringed inwardly when he presented his thoughts to Jase, while their hosts were out for a half-day at work. "I think I might drop into the mortal realm today and check in on our home, love. You know, tidy it up, fix the door and all that to keep out trespassers, just in case."

Jase looked up at his lover with a frown, "I'm coming with you." He stated. He wanted to make sure Undertaker would be safe. Plus, things would go faster with the two of them working on it. He set aside the carving he'd started on and stood up, putting his tools back in their case. "And don't say no—last time you left me for a short time you got arrested and we had to spend seven long years away from each other!"

The reaper hesitated, torn. "This is different, love. They can't get to you here without violating territorial agreements with the Shinigami. If you return to the mortal realm and they sense you, they'll come after you again. They know where we live, now. I'd rather you remain safely here, until we can figure out exactly what's going on and find a way to stop it."

"And wait here worrying over what they may do to you if they find you alone?" Jase shook his head and crossed his arms, "I'd be able to sense that you are in trouble—but I wouldn't be able to go help you fast enough. I can't form portals like you can. I know you want me safe, but I want you safe, as well!"

Chronus sighed. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

The doll shook his head and reached over to take Chronus' hand, bringing it up to kiss his long, bony fingers, "I worry about you just as you do, me." he reminded him, "I know I'm small and, in some ways, fragile. But you are my greatest weakness. I will do what I have to, to make sure you are safe. Even if that means I have to let my 'dollie side' out and I start biting people who threaten you."

The mortician pressed the fingers of his free hand against his lips, smiling with amusement. "As I've said before: great things come in small packages. I could almost pity the bloke that drives you to cut loose on him, darlin'."

He sighed and reached out to comb his fingers through Jase's long, soft ponytail. "I hate the thought of potentially putting you in danger, but I hate the thought of you being cross with me more. I'll tell you what; I'll bring you with me, but at the first sign of danger I'm going to create a portal and I expect you to run through it with no questions asked. I promise I'll be right behind you after I've created a distraction to keep them from trying to stop you. Is that fair enough for you?"

Jase thought on the proposal before nodding, "Deal. But I'll be timing you on how long it takes you to follow me. If you take too long I'll have Eric or Alan help me go back after you."

The mortician nodded. "Fair enough. Let's get your water canteen and get this taken care of, then."

"Good." Jase smiled and kissed his husband's cheeks before grabbing his carving project and taking it to the guestroom where he exchanged it with his canteen, "We should leave a note for Eric and Alan in the case that they get back before we do." He said as he walked back out and to the kitchen to fill his canteen.

"Right-o," agreed Chronus, and he joined his spouse in the kitchen to write on the notepad magnetically attached to the refrigerator.

It wouldn't be very polite of them as guests to just vanish without letting them know where they'd be, but he preferred not to get them further involved in this, if he could. The couple deserved to spend every happy moment together that they had available to them, and he sighed softly at their situation. There was at least  _one_  way he could think of that would allow them to be together, even beyond death. He couldn't save Alan from the Thorns. They would eventually kill him no matter what anyone attempted to do. Afterwards, however...

Undertaker's gaze flicked to Jase. Death didn't need to be the end of life on the material plane. His husband was living proof of that. The question was in whether the couple would allow such a thing. He thought that Eric might, given that the man's desperation to save his partner nearly drove him to become a criminal. Alan, on the other hand, might not go for it. No matter how tragic his situation was, the lad had a set of unbending morals. He'd made it quite clear that he didn't approve of Undertaker creating his bizarre dolls, though he'd come to love Jase almost like a son. In addition, if he duplicated the process that had altered Jase, he could land himself back in prison.

As Jase finished filling his canteen and looked at him, the mortician smiled. There were worse things in this world than his dollies. Perhaps having come to know and care about one of them might persuade the Slingphries to consider the option...provided Chronus indeed chose to offer it to them. He needed to think on it a bit more.

"Ready." The Frenchman said, walking over to Undertaker, "Did you leave the note?" He could tell Undertaker had been deep in thought, and he hoped it wasn't about finding a way to keep him there in the reaper's realm.

The reaper nodded and gestured gracefully to the notepad on the refrigerator. "All finished, love. Hopefully they won't get a fright from this and come looking for us as soon as they get home and read it. You know how they worry about you."

He put his arms around him and lowered his head for a kiss.

"Mm, you worry more." Jase smiled against his lips, "Come on, the sooner we go, the sooner we can get back."

Undertaker nodded and began to gather the dark energy to create the portal to their home. "Agreed, my dear."

* * *

 

"H'llo, we're home," called Eric as he and Alan returned to their apartment. When he received no answer from either of their guests, he shrugged at his partner. "Mus' be out takin' a stroll or somethin'."

He carried the bag of groceries they'd bought on their way home, full of ingredients for the dinner they planned to cook that night. He brought it into the kitchen and set it down on the counter, and he caught sight of the note with the Undertaker's scrawling handwriting on it.

"Hey Al, looks like they left us a note." He pulled it off the pad and squinted at it. "Och, I cannae read this. Wha' does this say? They've gone ta...choke tha cabinet an' they'll be barkin' by night owls?"

He showed it to Alan, scratching his head.

Alan took the note from his lover and scanned over it, "The note says that He and Jase have gone to check the cabin and should be back by nightfall…" he glanced up at Eric, "Which leaves me worried… If the angels find them, Jase could be in danger. Chronus could hold his own, but if they are outnumbered…"

"Then not even tha Undertaker may be able ta hold them off ta get Jase ou' of there," finished the Scotsman for him with a nod. He sighed and thought on it. "I'm half tempted ta go an' check on 'em, but I dinnae want ta be intrusive. Should we at least give 'em 'till nightfall, before we check ourselves?"

Alan sighed, lowering himself into a chair and looking down at the note. "Neither of them are our charges. We aren't Jase's guardians anymore, nor am I Death's probation officer. We are simply friends giving them a place to stay for the time-being. We should give them their space…for now… But if anything happens we are grounding them!"

Eric laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm in agreement wi' yeh, there."

* * *

 

The reaper and doll had stepped out of the portal, only to find their beloved little home razed to the ground...little more than a smoking pile of ashes and blackened timber on the hill overlooking the forested area they were in. Undertaker blinked in shock, and when Jase gave a cry of protest and started forward, he grabbed him around the waist to stop him.

"No, Jase! Let me investigate first...please, love." He turned the fretting doll around to face him, his face troubled as he looked him in the eyes. "Please. I want to be sure there aren't any angels lingering about before we come out from the cover of the forest. I'll call out for you to join me when I'm sure it's safe. Will you do that for me?"

"But—our home!" Jase looked over his shoulder at the charred remains of their cottage. "—It's gone! They took it from us! Do they even realize how cruel and unnecessary that was?!"

The mortician spoke in a growl—not directed at his spouse, but at the angels. "They're not concerned with material possessions, so they likely don't realize or care. This could be the work of mortals, though. Thieves might have come and sacked the place, then burned it down when they finished up. Let's not jump to conclusions 'till we know for sure, my dear. Just wait here and let me investigate. I'll be able to sense if it was the work of angels or not, and I'll know if there are any more around."

The doll sighed and nodded, crossing his arms. It wasn't the material possessions he was upset over, but rather the life he and Chronus had built for themselves in that modest little cottage. The memories the place had held for them…

Undertaker sifted through the ruins of his home, his chest aching. He had finally built a life here, and now it was gone. Over there was the remains of the rocking chair he sometimes napped in, and not far from that was the debris remaining of the couch where he and Jase so often cuddled up for a read together. The reaper heard a creaking sound and he looked up in time to see the remains of the second floor shifting. There was little more than a charred platform left of it, and it teetered and threatened to fall on him.

Undertaker leaped backwards as it fell, clearing the space just in time as it came down and threw crackling sparks. His face was smudged with soot, and he blinked at the sting of smoke in his eyes. He reached out with his senses and he could indeed detect the lingering traces of an angelic aura. Clenching his jaw, he searched around for anything that might be salvageable, procrastinating in calling Jase to join him. His emotions were high and he wanted to be sure there were no winged miscreants lingering that he just hadn't detected yet.

Jase sighed and sat down on the fence that lined their property. Watching his lover in the distance sort through the ruined home—their ruined home. It was a rather depressing sight.

"It didn't have to be this way." A soft voice like bells said soothingly—almost mockingly.

"What?" Jase stood up, looking around on high alert.

"Shh, no need to raise an alarm. I'm alone and not stupid enough to start a fight with your reaper mate." The angel said, appearing before Jase, her lavender eyes taking in his form, "…You are nothing like I imagined you to be, abomination. You're almost as human as you used to be…at least on the out-side. Interesting…"

The doll grit his teeth and took a step back, "I'm not an abomination."

The angel laughed, "Oh, my dear misguided boy, of course you are! …And you're disgusting. Come with us. We can fix you."

"Kill me, you mean. The interference of your kind is what created me to begin with. I've seen and felt Heaven's 'mercy', and I want no more of it."

"Of course, of course." The angel gave a sickeningly sweet smile, "Stay with the Death God…let him keep you safe and sound. But I must warn you—Heaven's High council of Archangels always get what they want. And they will keep taking things until they get you. Your countrymen…your home… What will you lose next? Those two reaper friends of yours? Your lover? We know what you love—we will exploit it until we have you, and that's a promise. You still have faith in our promises, don't you, little priest?" The angel leaned in closer, gripping Jase's jaw and forced him to look over at Chronus.

"…He's strong…but how long would he last against an entire fleet of our strongest heavenly warriors?" she whispered into his ear before disappearing without a trace.

Chronus felt it then...the celestial presence of one of the beings that humans still believed were their benign guardians from Heaven. To be fair, some still were, but the choir responsible for the slaughter in Paris were clearly anything but. He turned and looked towards the forest, his eyes widening with alarm.

"Jase?" Undertaker took off running and called his death scythe, his hat flying off his head as he bounded for the forest, weapon in hand.

Jase looked around at the woods, trying to determine if the angel was really gone or not before turning and calling out to his lover; "I'm here." he said, raising his arm over his head to wave him over to the spot where Chronus had left him. He ran over to meet Chronus half-way.

The reaper caught up his spouse in one arm and twirled with him, setting him behind him as he turned back to face the forest, scythe ready. "It was there," he said with certainty. "Did you see it, love?"

"Yes," Jase admitted, "I did." He peered around his husband and looked up at him, "But I think she's gone, now. She said she wasn't stupid enough to engage in a solo fight with you."

Undertaker didn't relax his guard. "Wise choice on her part, but if she was here, odds are she'll be going back to get allies. We'll take a quick look through the...house...and see what we can salvage. Keep a sharp eye out, darlin'."

Not having any objections, Jase nodded and took his hand, "Better work quickly, then." He looked to the house, "…How hot is it over there?"

The reaper grinned. "Not too bad, and I can cool it off in a jiffy. Just wait by the steps whilst I adjust the temperature a bit."

Jase nodded and did as requested, not wanting to overheat and collapse. Once the wreckage was cooled, Jase began to help his lover go through everything.

It was heartbreaking, finding charred remains of their life together—the box Jase had carved for Undertaker as a gift when they first got together. Jase pulled up out of the wreckage and held it up. There was no saving it.

"What's that you've got there, love?"

Undertaker took one look at it and he frowned, his heart clenching. "Oh. Oh dear. Darlin'..."

He had no words. Jase had taken the time and love to carve that coffin-shaped box for him when he'd first begun to return his feelings. Seeing it there in his little hands, blackened and ruined, was heartbreaking enough. Seeing the devastated expression on Jase's face, he put his arms around him and held him close.

"Do you know what matters most to me about that box, Jase?"

Jase shook his head, "I know what you'll say, but…this was a special gift to you…it represented the whole of how our relationship changed in the beginning before we took our vows…" he opened the lid; the inside of the box not quite as burnt, and the words he had carved there still showing. He ran his fingers over them.

Undertaker nodded. "And that's what matters the most to me about it. It was lovingly carved by you as a symbol of your affection for me. That was the day I knew what I was feeling wasn't only lust...the day I felt the first pure, true joy in a very long time."

He embraced him, and the damaged box pressed between their bodies. "Material things—even the ones with the most sentimental value—can be replaced, dear heart. You can't."

He let himself go for a moment, lowering his guard just long enough to give Jase a lingering, heartfelt kiss. As much as that box meant to him, it was meaningless without the little Frenchman that carved it for him.

"…But I can't replicate the emotions that changed the gift into what it was… it won't hold the same meaning the original had before they—they—God Damn it!" The former priest, cut himself off in a spurt of anger, cursing the Lord's name for the first time in his life. The words foreign on his tongue yet so easily slipping past his lips as he hid his face in Chronus' chest,

The reaper's eyes had never widened quite so much before as they did at that moment. Normally sultry and half-lidded, they opened abnormally large as he stared down at his fuming husband. Speechlessly, he stood stunned, with a comical look of scandal on his face. He had never, ever heard the little Frenchman utter that particular curse. A swear word from Jase was rare enough, but even after losing his faith, he had never taken the Lord's name in vain before. Chronus was even convinced Jase might even lack the ability to try.

A hysterical snicker burst from the ancient's lips before he could stop it, and he cleared his throat and relaxed his lids, reverting back to his usual, sleepy look. "I know...not funny," he said before Jase could snap at him. "I'm sorry love, it's just that I've never heard you curse like that before and it took me by surprise. It was just a reflex."

He rubbed his back soothingly. "Maybe it's not completely ruined. Could be that a little sanding, buffing and fresh finish can restore it. Let's at least bring it with us so you can have a better look at it and see, eh?"

Jase nodded, feeling a little childish for reacting the way he did about the box. But it really was special to them both. Just as special as the wooden rings around their fingers. He took a shaky breath and looked up at his love, "…Sorry…" he breathed, "I just…this is hard to take in…"

"Don't apologize, lovely." Undertaker caressed his face and he smiled down on him. "You've as much right to be angry as anyone in this situation. It only surprised me because I never thought I'd hear those particular words come out of your mouth in conjunction like that."

The Frenchman flushed slightly, "…Well, this is the work of Heaven…so…it…fits…" he muttered, realizing that he really had said those words.

Chronus nodded. "I suppose it does. Now let's..." he trailed off, his senses on alert once more when the sky began to darken overhead with a sudden influx of clouds. He looked up to see winged figures beginning to descend from a break in those clouds.

"Bugger, we're out of time." He banished his scythe and grabbed Jase's hand. "Come along, my love. Seems this is all we're getting today."

He created a portal for the two of them and he ushered Jase through with him, leaving behind their ruined home and the dreams that went with it.

* * *

 

Eric gave a start when the crackling portal appeared right beside him in the living room. He prudently jumped aside and out of the way as his houseguests came through, narrowly avoiding collision with them. One look at the Frenchman's heartbroken expression and the mortician's scowling one told him there wasn't any good news to be had.

"Wha' happened?" he asked, immediately going to Jase to lay comforting hands on his slim shoulders. "Are yeh all righ' lad?"

"We're both fine, physically," answered the Undertaker softly, "which is more than I can say for the next bloody angel I lay eyes on. They razed our home. I'm afraid we'll have to impose on you lovely gents for a bit longer than I'd hoped."

Eric sighed with sympathy, his heart going out to both of them. "Bleedin' mad, those angels. Come an' sit down in tha dinin' room an' I'll get yeh both somethin' ta drink. Al's in tha kitchen preparin' supper. Chronus, I'm sure ye'll be wantin' somethin' a lil' stiffer than tea."

"Brandy," agreed the ancient with a sigh. He put an arm around Jase and urged him to go with him, and Eric noticed the charred little box in the doll's hands. All he could make out of it was that it appeared to be shaped like a coffin, and the sad way that Jase looked down at it had him guessing it must have been something he'd made himself—probably for Undertaker, by the shape of it.

"I'll get those drinks," he said. "Wine fer yeh, Jase?" The Frenchman would imbibe on occasion, but only in small servings and the type of wine didn't really matter, seeing as he couldn't really taste it all that much.

Jase gave a stiff nod. "Please." He walked over and set the ruined box down on the table, starting to examine it to see if he could save it, after all.

"Oh, you're back—is something wrong?" Alan asked, poking his head out of the kitchen.

"…They burnt out home to the ground…" Jase muttered.

Undertaker reached out to rub the doll's tense shoulder and he nodded. "Not much of anything left, and one of the feathered fanatics was hanging 'round near the remains." He nodded at his spouse. "Told Jase it wouldn't bother attacking and then it took off to bring reinforcements."

Eric returned with the drinks, and he gave Jase's other shoulder a light squeeze as he set his wineglass down before him. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "Supervisor Spears wants ta come o'er and speak wi' ye both for a moment, later on t'night. Do yeh think yer up fer it, or should we ask him to wait 'till tomorrow?"

Chronus glanced at Jase. "As long as he keeps it brief and doesn't grill either of us; that would be fine."

Jase nodded, "…They are after me, though…the angels. I'm their target…"

Alan sighed and touched his shoulder, "It isn't your fault. And I'll help you with those sigils I told you about, alright? Get you a few made up tonight for protection."

Undertaker cocked his head curiously, swallowing the mouthful of brandy he'd just sipped. "Sigils? What's this about sigils?"

Alan grabbed the book still sitting out from when he had gotten it for Jase to study, and opened it up, "These. They are an old form of… well, I guess you can call it magic. But they still hold true strength as long as the user has trust and belief in them."

Chronus peered at the book thoughtfully, flipping through the pages containing the sigils as he sipped his drink. "Mm, they look rather familiar. Almost like Faustian runes, but with angelic scripture. Interesting." He looked at Alan again. "And you think Jase could use these safely?"

"I do." Alan smiled at the Fenchman, "Jase has strong faith in things. His faith has changed and evolved from what they had been when he was human, but I believe he could put real faith behind these."

The ancient looked at his spouse and he smiled as well. "I think you're quite right about that, Mr. Humphries. Quite right."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, a loud, rapid one followed by a forcefully high-pitched call "Housekeeping!"

Jase glanced to the door, confused, "…What?"

"…I think that's Ronald Knox, actually." Alan said, letting Undertaker keep the book as he went to open the door for Ronald and William.

"Good evening," greeted William as he stepped through the door. "I hope the day finds you well, Alan."

He glanced at his grinning blond companion. "As you can see, Ronald is feeling much better now. He insisted on coming along to visit."

"Well, not completely better. Still can't go up too high. But I can stand up without getting dizzy and collapsing again." The blond added.

"Oh, that's good, come on in, everyone's in the sitting room." Alan said, ushering them inside.

Ron was the first inside, pulling his new fiancé in with him. His grin grew wider once he spotted Eric and the others. Eric was his best friend and drinking buddy, after all, and he had no intention of this being a visit simply for William's business. He wouldn't make a huge announcement of it at work, but close friends were different.

"So!" He said, clapping his hands, "Before I let Will get to the boring stuff that led us to come here, I have something much more important!" he said with a grin.

Eric got up and walked over to him to give him a brief, one-armed hug. "Thar he is. Good ta see yeh back on yer feet, lad. Wha's this announcement ye've got for us, then?"

Undertaker smiled and waved in greeting, and then he returned his attention to the book, too engrossed in it to chat much, for a change.

"William put a very chokable object in my sandwich!" Ron said, holding up his hand with a grin to show off the ring.

Jase snapped his gaze up in alarm, "That's dangor—" he cut off, spotting the ring. "—In a sandwich?"

That caught the Undertaker's attention, and he looked up from the book he was reading and nudged Jase with a broad grin. "And you say  _I'm_  corny."

William flushed and shot an accusing look at Eric. "Someone put it into my head that it would be a romantic way to propose, and it wasn't  _in_  the sandwich; it was  _on_  it."

Eric started to laugh. "I meant on a fancy dessert, or maybe in tha napkin 'r on silverware! I didnae tell yeh ta put it in a sandwich!"

"Well, I had none of that available to me," excused William, "and no way of knowing when I could procure a night off to do so in a more elegant setting."

"You asked him to take the vow?" Alan asked in surprise, walking over to Ronald and looking at the ring, "You two are more serious than I thought—this is a gorgeous ring, very nice, William."

Ronald grinned, yanking William closer by the arm and taking his hand, "Most romantic hospital sandwich ever. Don't worry; the vows will be in a much better setting. We just need to put in for the time off and wait to get the clearance."

"Congratulations, Mister Spears, Mister Knox." Jase smiled warmly.

"Nahh! None of that! You and I are probably about the same age. No, call me Ron."

"Both hardly more than babies," agreed Chronus with a smile.

Eric raised his brows at the mortician. "Oh? Than I s'pose tha' makes yeh a cradle-robber, ol' geezer."

"Pfft, you're hardly one to talk," countered the Undertaker with a chuckle. "How old was your student before you started making advances on him, Eric?"

The Scotsman blushed as everyone looked at him. "I...er...le's have ano'er drink fer the happy couple!" He went to fetch a bottle of champagne from storage and some glasses to go with it.

"I'm not sure Ronald should imbibe," cautioned William.

"Awe, come on! It's not like one glass of champagne will do me any harm! It's not like the man's offering me a scotch!" Ronald protested, "I'll stop at only one, promise. Besides, I don't want ta get drunk tonight. I have a different sort of fun planned!" he slipped his arms around William's waist and pulled him in close, looking up into the handsome man's eyes.

"You should still make it a small glass if you insist upon it." Alan stated, and Jase agreed with a nod.

"Even if you have a high tolerance usually, you suffered a head injury, as I understand it."

William's mouth twitched with amusement at his betrothed's antics, and his crestfallen expression when two of their companion's 'ganged up' on him. "One glass," he said sternly, "and not a full one. The last thing we need right now is for you to collapse again."

Had they been alone, he might have whispered that he very much looked forward to Ronald's alternative idea for some fun. As it was, he was still too conservative by nature to flirt in public and he was still getting used to coming out of the closet with his lover. Eric must have heard the exchange from the kitchen, because after he popped the cork on the champagne, he came back and filled all but one glass to full. He handed Ronald the one that was three-quarters full with an apologetic shrug.

"Wha' can I say, he's m' boss," he apologized.

Ron gave him a pouting look as he took the glass, "Yeah, but I'm your boss' future husband!" he tried.

"Nice try. But Eric's my husband and he knows I am with William on this, Ronald." Alan said, taking a full glass and taking a seat, crossing his legs.

The Scotsman chuckled. "An' tha better half always wins tha' argument. I'd not only be riskin' more overtime wi' Spears; I'd be sleepin' in tha dog house at home, too. Self-preservation, lad."

William smirked. "Quite the wise choice, Mr. Slingby."

"Cheers to the happy couple," said Chronus, raising his glass. "Death knows you two waited for long enough to come out with it."

Everyone said their words of agreement to the toast, clicked their glasses together and took a sip from their glasses.

Ron sighed, leaning back against the back of the couch; "Okay, now that the important thing has been said, Will, you can do whatever it is you have to do with the new part of your job, or whatever." He grinned.

"So glad I have your permission," said the supervisor dryly. He sipped from his glass as he sat down at the table. "Well then, as you probably know already, I've been assigned as a replacement for Mr. Holtz as your parole officer, Chronus."

The older reaper nodded. "Indeed. Eric informed us of the good news."

William raised a brow. "I would not be so quick to call it 'good news', sir. I am no more tolerant than Holtz was...though I daresay I can be more fare in the handling of your case."

Undertaker spread his hands, grinning. "That could be said of just about anyone, chap. Regardless, I think Jase and I can both honestly say we're relieved. I'll do my best not to cause you any undue trouble."

"And I plan to make sure of it." Jase said, "Though I am sorry to hear this is only adding to your already heavy workload."

"If it helps, they will be staying with us longer than originally thought. Though sadly, due to an unfortunate loss of their home." Alan said.

William frowned. "I beg pardon?" He looked between Chronus and Jase. "I thought the two of you were merely relocating temporarily, until the angelic threat is dealt with."

"That was the plan," explained the mortician, "but we went by to check on the place and repair the door that Colonel Chicken demolished. Our cottage was burnt to the ground and there was little left to salvage."

He sighed and put an arm around Jase. "So we're officially homeless for now. At least our horse is safe with a neighbor. That's the one happy thing I can say about it."

William sipped his drink thoughtfully and adjusted his glasses. "My condolences. If you need assistance replacing clothing and basic household necessities, I'll see to it that Dispatch helps you. We have charity resources for just such things, and though you have retired, you are still a Shinigami citizen and thus entitled to our government's aid. Your spouse is considered a citizen by De facto in fact, due to your marriage; so he also qualifies."

Undertaker was a bit surprised by that. "Well, that's a kind offer of you, Willy. Can't say we're in any position to be too proud for charity, right now. The very basics would at least help out 'till we get back on our feet...that is, once we get rid of these holy pests."

"Yes, thank you." Jase said with a sad nod as he thought back to the angel's words to him. Even if they rebuilt, it wouldn't last.

"But we apologize for any inconvenience. As Chronus has said, we haven't need of much more than a few basic needs. We are capable of rebuilding on our own over time, we have the resources needed on our land. And as Chonus has said when we built the barn and the green house; 'It's just like building a giant coffin. We can do it.'"

Eric chuckled at that. "Sounds like tha Undertaker, a'right. Well, yer both welcome ta stay as long as ya need. Yer good houseguests; ya help wi' chores an' cooking, ya don' get in tha way an' both Alan an' I think of yeh as a son, Jase. Feels a bit like we've go' a family."

Undertaker pointed a thumb in Jase's direction. "If he's the son, what does that make me...Grandpop?"

Eric shook his head and swallowed the champagne in his mouth. "Yer tha funny uncle."

The mortician feigned indignation. "Why am I always the funny uncle?"

"Because you're absolutely crazy, and they don't want to think of you as a son-in-law." Jase prodded playfully. Though inside, Eric's words had only furthered his worry over the future.

"It's either the funny uncle or the old as dirt reaper who married the boy we see as a son." Alan nodded.

"Messed up family either way if the baby married the uncle." Ron joked, sipping more of his drink.

Feeling ganged up on, Undertaker pointed at Eric. "Well you've got a funny accent, so there."

William shook his head and sighed. "I'm marveling at the immaturity at this table."

Eric nearly spit out his champagne laughing. "At least we're no' startin' a food fight, this time."

"That was your fault," accused Chronus with a grin.

"I' was an accident," defended Eric. "I didnae purposely flick tha pea at ya."

"A likely story."

Jase shook his head and looked at William, "Was there anything else you needed to ask us? It seems we have gotten off topic, and I'm sure you and Ronald would like to get back to yourselves."

William reached into his blazer for some folded documents. "I'll just leave these with your spouse to fill out, sign and return to the office as soon as possible. It merely states that you acknowledge me as your new probation officer and agree to report to me if there are any future changes to your residency...preferably in advance, but a situation such as what brought you here cannot be helped. A repeat of that isn't likely to occur on this plane, though. You must also agree to the usual monthly inspections—though I am aware your current situation does not allow a laboratory with which to conduct your usual work. That's sure to change sometime in the future; hopefully sooner rather than later."

Undertaker took the documents and he fished out his small reading glasses to see the text better. "Hmm, thorough chap, aren't you? Holtz never bothered with paperwork for me; he just took over lickety-split."

William straightened his blazer. "Holtz had an agenda. I do not." He finished his champagne and stood up. "Thank you for your hospitality. Jase, Undertaker, I apologize for bringing this on you at such a time. I shall see to it that you have the support you need to make a new start, whenever this threat is dealt with."

He shook hands with both of them and with Alan and Eric. "Are you ready, Ronald?"

"One—sec—ah!" Ron finished off his champagne and set the glass down before standing up. "See ya at work." He nodded to Eric and Alan, "…and see you around, I guess?" he waved at Undertaker and Jase.

"I hope you feel better soon." Jase nodded.

"I find it ironic you should say that," countered William dryly, "considering how often you lecture me on taking breaks from my work."

"My taking a second to finish a drink is not the same as you taking a half hour to finish 'this last page' at work, Will!" Ron protested as they walked out the door.

"Ah, tha sounds o' love," teased Eric. "Ya know it's tha real thing when yer arguin' over one ano'er's well-being."

* * *

 

Late that night, Jase was trapped within a fitful sleep, moaning and tossing in his spot next to Chronus in the bed they shared. The moonless night made the room pitch black, only stars dancing in the sky outside the open window, and a white light shining beneath the doll's closed eyes.

Angels.

Jase froze, finding himself in a world of white. The world bright, but not burning his eyes though he wasn't wearing his blindfold. That was his clue that this was just a dream. But he was still terrified of the circle of angels a short distance away.

Luckily, they seemed to not notice him as they went about their business.

"He's not so easy to get." An angel with long golden curls said, "He is shrouded in Death's power. He's connected his soul to a reaper's under a full moon."

"You're sure?" asked another holy being supporting a short white ponytail asked, crossing his arms.

"We are." A third angel said.

"…Very well. You know what to do." The man with a ponytail said, turning away.

"Yes." The female from their ruined home stated, then turned on Jase who started when she grabbed his wrist. "You wouldn't want harm to come to him, would you, abomination?"

Where her hand touched, Jase felt a burning sensation. He jerked his arm away, and awake. He was back in the dark bedroom in Eric and Alan's home, Chronus safe and sound next to him, grinning in his sleep and a steady line of drool soaking his pillow.

But something was wrong…his wrist was still burning… Jase sat up and felt around to light a candle, gasping quietly when the light it shed showed a burn in the shape of a thin hand circling his wrist, slowly healing.

The dream…wasn't just a dream—he couldn't let them hurt his husband, or anyone else. Love was putting the needs of others before his own, and he only knew of one way to stop the angels…

With a sad look in his swirled blue eyes, he leaned over where Undertaker lay fast asleep upon the soft cotton sheets of their bed. The former priest gingerly brushed aside the silver reaper's shaggy bangs, revealing his handsome but scarred face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I can't stay…" He slowly leaned over, his lips feathering against the soft flesh near the elder's eyelids in a soft kiss.

This was for Undertaker's own good…his safety.

Jase stood up again, grabbing his blindfold and placing it in his pocket for later use when the sun came up, and picking up his bag, into which he slipped a few needed belongings, His canteen, blindfold—and just in case, his bible which hid sigils between the pages. He turned and headed out the door, closing it as quietly as possible, and hurrying towards the nearest permanent portal into the mortal world.

"We've been expecting you, Abomination."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	10. Chapter 10

Undertaker awoke with a start, his heart pounding like a mallet in his chest. "Jase," he murmured groggily, reaching out for him.

The doll's side of the bed was empty and cooling. Some of his body heat still lingered, but given that he put off more warmth than other men it stood to reason that he'd been gone for longer than it seemed. The mortician sat up and tossed the covers off, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he got up, fear crawling up and down his spine like spiders. It was different, this fear. He only experienced it when he sensed that his spouse was in danger. He still wasn't quite used to it, after living for so long with practically no fears at all.

"Jase," he called out, stumbling to his robe to slip it on. He moved down the hall, sensing that the doll was absent from the building entirely but still entertaining the hope that his senses were lying to him. "Jase!"

The door to the master bedroom cracked open and Eric poked his head out, looking around blearily in the dimness. "Wha's goin' on?" demanded the Scotsman in a voice scratchy with sleep.

"Jase is missing," answered Chronus absently, continuing his trajectory to the living room.

Eric frowned. "Missing? Are ya sure he didnae jus' go out fer a stroll? He used ta do that sometimes while yeh were incarcerated; when he was feelin' restless an' wanted ta clear his head."

Undertaker considered that, but he dismissed it with a shake of his head. "No, I felt his distress. I'm still feeling it. It's quite faint though, as if...as if...hmm."

It dawned on him, then. "He's no longer in this realm."

"Why would he leave?" Alan yawned, walking out, pulling his robe on over his pajamas and rubbing his eyes, "Let alone leave the realm? He knows it's not safe right now." He yawned again and leaned against Eric, "He probably just went for a walk. He does have a lot on his mind. Fresh air may help him clear his mind before he gets back in bed."

Undertaker gave them both an annoyed look. "If either of you felt your a sense of terror and desperation from your spouse just before discovering him gone in the dark hours of the morning, would you be so bloody quick to dismiss it?"

Eric looked at the smaller reaper beside him. "Tha's a good point. Are ya sure he's no' on this side anymore, though? Could be yer just sensin' his upset o'er tha loss of yer home."

"If he were still here in this realm, I would have a clear sense of which direction to go to find him," explained Chronus. "You both ought to know as much. He couldn't have gotten so far away from me on this plane that his soul signature would be so faint, in such a short time. Where do the nearest exit portals to the mortal realm open up to on the other side?"

Alan bit his lip in thought. Being a full dispatch officer, he usually made his own portals and didn't need to use the permanent ones located around London. "I think…that one goes to the bay…the docks." He straitened up, "If you are sure he's in the mortal side of London, then we'll come help you look for him. Eric—get your pants on."

The Scotsman looked down at his boxer shorts, having completely forgotten he was in such a state of undress. "Righ'. Be out in a few minutes, Undertaker. Jus' wait long enough fer us ta get decent, 'cause if Jase had a run-in wi' those angels, ya might need reinforcements."

The ancient nodded, trying to keep his impatience and anxiety in check. "Thank you, chaps. Try to hurry it up. I don't fancy the thought of leaving Jase in danger, whatever the reason he crossed into the mortal realms."

He couldn't believe someone could have come in and kidnapped him from under their noses, but a dark thought occurred to him. What if Jase  _did_  simply go for a walk to clear his head, and someone came across him and took him against his will? His thoughts immediately went to Holtz. The man had already hinted that he believed the angel attacks were tied to Jase, and he had to be angry about being booted from duty as Undertaker's parole officer. What if he'd taken Jase to the enemy and cut a deal with them to stop their attacks, or just out of spite to try and hurt his old rival?

These were the unpleasant thoughts that churned in his head as he waited for his hosts to get dressed and join him.

Alan was the first one out, dressed simply in just what he needed to stay decent and be able to move around in should they need to engage in a fight. Eric was close behind, similarly dressed, and the brunet nodded, "Lets go bring Jase back home."

The mortician nodded, and with a bit of concentration, he altered his garments into his usual battle attire. Forgoing his hat, he started grimly for the door. "Off we go."

* * *

 

The salty air was cold, blowing in off the calm, dark waters at the end of the docks. Jase stood at the end of one, surrounded by the winged beings that haunted his dreams ever since his last night in a church.

"You fell all too easily into our trap." Grinned an angel with curls of white.

"I didn't fall into anything—I walked into it on my own free will so that you would stop hurting people." Jase said, though their was a tremor in his voice. He couldn't help but fear these creatures, after all.

"Well, you succeeded, then." Another angel—another male with white hair nodded, "You realize you'll never see your grey friends again."

Jase swallowed, letting a few tears fall down his cheeks as he nodded, thinking back to Undertaker—and knowing the pain he'd feel when he woke up—in fact, he could already almost feel it welling up in his chest. "I—I understand."

"Good. Take him up before our council for examination." The angel said, snapping his fingers and two angels seized Jase's arms, taking off into the sky with the other angels surrounding them.

Undertaker and his companions arrived just in time to see Jase carried away. The mortician shouted his spouse's name and tried to leap after him; but they had already ascended too quickly. No matter how light on their feet, no matter how far or high they could jump or how easily they could slow their descent and land, Shinigami did not possess the powers of flight.

Chronus swore an oath so vile he startled himself. He considered summoning ravens to go after them, but the mortal animals would never make it in time and even if they could, they would never be able to ascend all the way to Heaven.

"Jase..." The mortician sank to his knees, his tortured gaze fixated on the dwindling gaze of his soul mate. With a flash of light, Jase and his captors were gone. The mortician bowed his head, and his hair fell forward over his face. The clouds released a gentle rain as Undertaker's hands dropped into his lap, and it was difficult to tell if the moisture running down his scarred face was from the precipitation or tears.

Eric came up behind the broken form of the once powerful reaper, speechless. He laid a supporting hand on Chronus' tense, trembling shoulder and he squeezed it, looking to his spouse helplessly. They should have moved faster. Had they arrived but seconds sooner...

"Why?" whispered Chronus, his voice barely audible over the sound of lapping waves, gentle rain and the salty wind. "Why did he...go to them? Was he forced to? I...I don't understand."

Frowning, Alan knelt down beside the pained elder, "You would know better than anyone." He said gently, taking his hand in comfort. "And only you can feel what he may be going through emotionally. We all can have our theories, but you'd know best."

He sighed and gave his hand a squeeze; "And we'll find him again."

Undertaker closed his eyes, reaching out with his feelings for that last sense of 'Jase' that lingered. "He...did it on his own," he said softly. "Tried to...protect people...protect innocents...his friends...me. Oh, damn it all."

He stood up and ran clawed hands through his rain-dampened hair, his teeth bared in a snarl. " _Damn_  it all! I was afraid of this and yet...the lad was so convincing. Lil' fellow had my old head fooled with his talk of being all right. I knew the guilt was tearing him up, and I let—"

"Stop tha' an' listen ta me," Eric commended sternly, seeing that the mortician was in danger of slipping back into the madness that Jase Dubois had saved him from in the first place. Surprisingly, Chronus  _did_  stop—perhaps because he was unused to younger generations having the gumption to speak that way to him.

Eric softened his tone. "Jase is still alive, Chronus. If they meant ta kill him straigh' off, they'd have done it a'fore we even arrived. They took him fer a reason, an' tha' means we've go' a chance ta get him back."

"It makes sense—he is the kind of man to make a self-sacrifice without a second thought… but we are all three the types of men who wouldn't let him get away with such a selfless act. Come on, before we do anything we need to talk to Spears." Alan said, taking the grieving man's hand to help him up, "We'll need to work fast because we don't know how much time Jase has."

Chronus drew a shuddering breath and he nodded. Having a breakdown wouldn't help his husband, right now. He needed to draw on who and what he was before he'd fallen so hard for the doll...become the calculating madman once more—if only to save him and bring him back home.

"Let's be off then," he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

Eric patted his arm while Alan created the portal back to their realm.

* * *

 

"Oh, honestly," grumbled William when his work phone went off.

The sun had barely risen, and here they were calling him in. Could they not just allow him that one precious hour more of rest? With a resigned sigh, he rolled over slightly to fetch the device from the night stand and bring it to his ear, careful not to disturb the sleeping young blond lying half on top of him.

"William T. Spears speaking."

"Sorry ta' disturb yeh so early, boss," Eric Slingby's voice said on the other line, "but there's been an incident wi' Jase Dubois."

William compulsively reached for his glasses and fit them over his face. "Such as?"

"Chronus woke up ta' find him missin' earlier this mornin', an' we tracked him to tha portal tha' leads ta the London wharfs. We didnae get there on time. Angels took him before we could stop 'em, sir. He's still alive, but if he's ta stay tha' way, it may require intervention from tha high court."

William compressed his lips. "Why in heavens would the boy do something so foolish as to return alone to his realm?"

"Ta spare his friends, loved ones an' innocents from angelic wrath, best we can tell," answered Eric with a shrug in his voice. "Though Chronus thinks Holtz had somethin' ta do wi' it."

"Has he any proof of that?" William rolled over a bit more and softened his voice, still mindful of his recovering lover and his need for rest.

"None," admitted the Scotsman, "but ye've gotta admit, tha man made it no secret tha' he wants ta see tha Undertaker fall."

"Be that as it may, without some evidence that Quinton Holtz was involved in this abduction, we cannot very well go pointing fingers." William sighed again. "It seems logical to me that the boy left on his own, the noble fool. Slingby, I honestly don't know that the board can do anything about this. One human—no matter how special or different—is not worth the risk of breaking a treaty."

"We know tha', sir," answered Eric softly, "but when ya consider tha rules they broke ta get to him? We could appeal to  _their_  bosses. Please, sir...jus' see wha' yeh can do."

William closed his eyes, wondering if people made it their goal in life to make his job more difficult. He knew how fond Eric and Alan were of Jase, and if the Undertaker lost him, there was no telling what the ancient might do for revenge.

"Very well, Slingby. I shall arrange a meeting with the board as soon as possible and present the situation and my suggestions to them. Should Mr. Humphries feel up to it, I should like him to be at my side. He has a way of appealing on the humanitarian side of even reapers, and I'm afraid we may need that."

"Righ' sir. I'll tell 'im. Thank ya."

William hung up without another word, and he looked down at the yellow-blond head nestled against his chest with a little sigh of regret. He stroked Ronald's hair. "Ronald...no, never mind."

Ronald needed to complete his recovery. He wouldn't drag him into this and jeopardize his healing progress.

Ron moaned and shifted, "Don' you say 'ne'er mind after waking me up…" he said, words muffled into Will's chest. He shifted again further up into his love, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Will's neck and brushing his lips against his skin, "What were you gonna say?"

The blond sleepily pressed lazy kisses to his neck, his naked body pressing against William's, "What was that phone call? Not more work, was it?"

"However did you guess?" William answered dryly. He stroked his hand over Ronald's ribcage and hip in a casual, possessive glide and he turned his head to kiss the blond's forehead. "Mr. Dubois has apparently been abducted by angels and I intend to implore the council to attempt an intervention on his behalf. Think nothing of it. I started to wake you to come with and assist me out of habit, but I believe Mr. Humphries will be there with his partner. You need rest. Eric can deal with the paperwork while Alan and myself approach the board."

He was loathe to leave Ronald's side...particularly when his soft kisses and cuddles made his troublesome 'morning wood' even more exaggerated; but he needed to jump on this quickly. "I believe I'm in need of a cold shower."

"Wait, he's gone?" Ron asked, waking up more and sitting up atop William, his eyes wide, "How? He was in our realm! They didn't come here for him, did they? Because that breaks rules and shit!"

William's intention to roll out of bed for his shower was thwarted by the blond suddenly straddling him. He impulsively put his hands on Ronald's hips and his mouth twitched subtly at the younger reaper's exclamation. "To quote you: ' _No shit_ '. Angels could not have traversed into this realm without our knowing it, however...which leaves open two possibilities. Either he was taken by a reaper and traded to the angels, or he left of his own accord. I'm inclined to believe the latter theory is the more accurate one. We have witnessed for ourselves that Mr. Dubois has quite a generous spirit, and his devotion to his mate is impressive."

William paused and gazed up at Ronnie; whose vision was still good enough that he didn't require glasses to see him clearly from this distance. He ran his hands over the blond's thighs and he sighed. "I might have scoffed at such devotion, not so long ago. I believed it clouded one's purpose and distracted from it. I think I have a better understanding of it now."

"And we'll both understand even more soon once we get to have our lovely vows and vacation time for the honeymoon." Ron smiled, "But still, what are we going to do about Jase? We can't just leave him up there, and can you imagine what this would do to that crazy old geezer if we can't save Jase? Nah-uh, no good. We have to save the little doll."

"I agree," said William with a nod. "I'd rather not see the Undertaker revert back into old, reckless behaviors. We worked too hard to ensure his freedom to see it all go to pot, and should we allow the angels to get away with this latest infraction, they may get the impression that they can get away with more. I plan to use that argument to the board, and with Mr. Humphries appealing to what's left of their humanity, we may be able to procure an audience with angelic councils to plead for Jase's freedom and safety."

"If anyone can, it'd be Alan-senpai. He's good at it." Ron sighed and flopped back forward and down onto William, "But this means you are leaving for work early, doesn't it?" he pouted. He understood why, and he knew it had to be done. It wasn't just saving Jase Dubois, after all. It was bigger than that as Undertaker was very emotionally involved and if he lost Jase, then the old reaper would likely become a huge problem for all reapers again. –And his targets would likely be all those associated with Heaven, which would, without a doubt, start a war. However, he didn't like the idea of work taking his fiancé away from him early when he, himself had yet to get clearance on fully returning to work, and he'd likely be left at home.

William stroked his back, smirking slightly. "Yes, I must leave for work early. If there were any other way I could do it, you know that I would. I cannot thrust all of this on the shoulders of Alan and Eric though, and Grell...well, I'm sure I needn't explain why he would not be the best candidate to handle this. On the subject of Grell; if there happens to be anything you can think of that might lessen the blow we've dealt to him, please do share."

William closed his eyes, wishing he could go back to sleep and just lie there with his lover. "Regardless of his tactless pursuits, I would rather not have him suffering undue angst over the relationship between you and I. He cares for you, and you have a way with him that I lack. Perhaps while I deal with this, you could consider a means for us to...make it up to him."

"Mmh..." Ron gave a humming sigh into Will's shoulder, "Grell-senpai is like a big brother to me-or sister when he's in that sort of mood… but… I don't know… maybe if we treated him to a day at a spa, or took him on a shopping spree… He likes those when he's upset over things. He likes to splurge. Drags me to them sometimes…"

William reached out for his wallet, sitting on the bedside table next to the phone he'd just deposited moments ago. "Then treat him...and treat yourself. It's almost a certainty that he'll resent me for quite some time, but you may be another matter. Don't...don't say that it is from me. He may not accept the offer."

He fished out several bills, and he offered them to Ronald. "You know his favorite haunts. While you are off duty, take him on an outing."

He pulled the money away before Ronald could even attempt to take it. "But do  _not_  over-indulge in liquor. Practice moderation, please." He smiled every so slightly and offered the currency to his lover again.

Ron pouted, "I only drink in the evenings when shops are closed and pubs are open late. you know that." he took the bills and rolled over to his own side of William's bed and slipped them under his glasses. "I should also make use of my free time to move all my shit from my apartment, here-well, what's not already here, that is... we don't need two places, and your place is much nicer than mine..." Ronald snickered, remembering the first time William had walked into his small apartment; barely furnished and a complete mess of clothes and bottles.

"I think I  _might_  be able to accommodate your meager belongings," sighed William in a tone of surrender. He smirked at him. "We can see to it after you've recovered and I've taken care of this mess though. For now, I need to tidy up and go. Sorry to say I cannot dally around, much as I'd like to."

"Fine, but the toll for leaving early is a kiss!" Ron said playfully, pointing to his lips as he rolled back onto his back and looked up at William.

Unable to resist the request—especially considering Ronald's body was now fully exposed to view—William leaned over him and granted it.

Yes, he would most certainly require a cold shower, before heading into the office.

Ron smiled and pulled William a little closer to make the kiss last a moment more before letting him go, "Okay, you may go get ready for work, I'm going back to bed. Its too early for all this crap, and since I can't help out yet… may as well enjoy time with my dream-world William rather than my real William." He teased, sleepily. His eyes already drooping as he ended on a yawn and reached out to pull the comforter back up over his toned, tan body.

William sighed in regret as the blond's form was concealed from his eyes, but perhaps it was better that he not remain there staring at his nudity. Even he had his limitations, after all. He got up and went straight for the bathroom, hardly bothering to turn on any hot water at all. He cursed softly as he stepped into the cold spray, but it quickly took care of his issue and enabled him to think with a clearer head.

* * *

 

While Alan and Eric went to meet up with Spears, Undertaker returned to their home to sort out his emotions. He felt like a piece of him was missing. He'd heard accounts of this before when a bonded pair got separated through death or great distance, and Heaven was certainly about as far away as Jase could get from him without being killed. The distance between the higher planes and the middle and lower ones was greater than the distance between any of the others. His one consolation was that he could still  _feel_  Jase, albeit faintly. He was still alive. He wondered if the doll happened across any family or loved ones while he was up there. The Irish monk he was so fond of, perhaps.

Chronus had been hurt before in the past, but he realized now that he'd never had his heart broken. He didn't like it at all. Listlessly, he sat down on the bed he'd been sharing with his husband and his eyes went to the little coffin keepbox he'd carved for him over time, sitting on the bedside table. A bit blackened but still whole, Jase thought he might be able to salvage it, once he had a good look at it. The mortician reached out and took it, absently cradling it to his chest. It was the closest thing to having a Jase plushie to cuddle right now, and though he felt like an utter child for doing it, he lay down on his side and held it close for comfort. He closed his eyes and a single tear escaped the one nearest to the pillow, trickling onto it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to his absent mate. "Should have known you'd do such a thing, love. I should have..."

What? What more could he have done, short of tying the doll up to make sure he couldn't sneak out on him? The thought didn't ease his guilt and pain, and he sighed, breathing in the doll's lingering scent.

* * *

**To be continued**


	11. Chapter 11

Tears stung at Jase's eyes under his blindfold. He hadn't expected his choice to hurt quite as bad as it did. His heart felt like it had been ripped in two as soon as he'd been flown through the pearly gates of 'paradise'. The light in heaven was so bright and pure, he'd screamed in pain when it hit his eyes and he'd struggled to find his blindfold which wasn't enough alone to guard his eyes from the light, and even with it on, he had to keep his eyes closed firmly.

His belongings had been searched, and his canteen of 'impure water' taken, though his bible was granted back to him with amused looks before they locked him up in a cell of white marble and gold. Whatever they had planned for him, it seemed they were going to wait.

The Frenchman let out a pained sob and curled up on the surprisingly soft cot provided to him, hugging himself. "Chronus…I'm sorry…I—I'm sorry…" he cried, hoping that somehow his husband could hear him. The distance between them was physically painful, and suddenly, all the resolve he'd built up had disappeared and all he wanted was to be back in the crazy old reaper's arms. He'd made a mistake, and he didn't realize it until too late. Surrendering himself hadn't been for the best, and nothing would stop the angels from attacking humans again in the future. Eric, Alan, Chronus… He knew they could handle themselves. He knew he could have faith in them…but he'd let the angel's poisoned words get to his head and that guilt wasn't helping the pain in the least.

"Chronus…"

* * *

 

With a proud, smug look on her face, the angel who had successfully gotten into Jase's head strolled along the corridors to the High Council's chamber to report their success in capturing the little abomination.

Reaching the golden doors, she raised a slender hand and knocked, waiting to be granted an audience with the Archangels.

The gilded doors opened to admit her, and an angel in male form with hip-length, red-gold hair approached her, wearing white, gold-embroidered robes. "Please enter," he bade her. "We have been expecting your report."

"And I have a good one." She smiled at him as she glided into the chamber and bowed before the council. "My most graced elders, my team have successfully captured the Abomination known as Jase Dubois. He is securely locked up here in Heaven and out of reach of those pesky gods of death he surrounds himself with."

The council murmured amongst themselves. "That is most excellent news," said one of the females, stepping forward. "But tell me, why has he not been destroyed?"

"I gave the order to delay such action," answered the male that had greeted the messenger at the doors.

The female councilor arched a brow. "And why is that, Uriel?" She spoke respectfully to him, as he was above her in rank.

"Because we have received no direct order from the Divine to destroy the creature," he explained calmly, "and because he was once a man of the cloth. He devoted himself to the Holy Spirit as a mortal, and it was our folly that he became what he is now. You all know that I have been opposed to the cleansings, and it was only through majority vote that they have been occurring at all. The time for wrath passed long ago. If mercy does not stir you, perhaps prevention will. We need to understand this creature, before we so hastily destroy him."

"If we wish to prevent another incident like this," suggested another lesser archangel, "Perhaps we should destroy the reaper that transformed the priest to begin with."

There were murmurs of agreement, but Uriel held up his hand for silence. "The reaper is a divine being like ourselves. Yes, he has lost his way, but the issue is not his meddling with life and death. He will have to atone for that on his own. The issue is this former priest's ability to wield angel fire...a thing which should not be possible and would not have occurred, had the angels of the lower choir not attempted to purify his soul to begin with."

"But he would not exist now to  _use_  the holy fire, if the reaper hadn't meddled," pointed out the female that had first spoken. "He would have perished as he was meant to like the others, if Death hadn't intervened."

"And I'll remind you that those other cleansings were not sanctioned beyond this council, either," stated Uriel. He smiled softly. "I know the minions of Hell go unchecked too often, but burning away the mortals we are trying to save from them seems counter-productive, to me. We are robbing Heaven of souls with these actions; which makes us no better than the demons. Father Dubois may no longer be human, but he has a soul...and it is pure."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" asked another councilor. "Study him and then what; free him back to earth with forbidden gifts that no mortal was ever meant to have?"

"Ah, but he is no longer mortal." Uriel smiled again. "And he has yet to use the holy flame for sinful purpose. I propose we study him not to prevent the same thing from happening again. Reports state that the reaper who resurrected him has given up his former ways and has not created further abominations since. No, my reasons for this proposal is to determine whether we can extract the holy fire from within him. We cannot undo what the reaper has done, but we can possibly correct our own mistake without harming his soul or killing his body. We may even restore some of his faith, in the process."

"His is but one soul," reminded a male angel. "Putting a merciful end to him would solve the problem much more quickly."

"He was a man of God, before this occurred," Uriel reminded again. "And he has not been named for martyrdom. I will have no part of destroying a man who heard the call and answered it. So few mortals sincerely do these days. Jase was one of them. He answered the call out of love for his fellow man, not to gain power and influence over others as so many tend to do. That sort of devotion—even if he has lost it—deserves a measure of respect. If you all wish to be no better than the Hell spawn we detest, then go through with your plan and destroy one of the Divine's chosen. I warn you that you may find yourselves exiled from Heaven like the Fallen, if you do."

"What if we free him from his twisted body and make him one of us?" One angel suggested.

"A difficult task that could destroy his soul as well as his body. We'd need use of a reaper's scythe to do so properly without risk and we have no access to one. We'd have to cut a deal with the reaper council or steal one."

"The reapers have been trying to keep the abomination from us." The messenger pointed out, "They would never grant us use of one to force him into our ranks. And stealing a scythe would break the treaty. I was able to manipulate the priest into giving himself up so we were not breaking the treaty, we can not manipulate our way into possession of a scythe."

The council began to debate the idea, tossing arguments back and forth.

"What of his lover?" suggested one of them. "He might be willing to do whatever we ask of him, if it would save him."

"You should hear yourselves," sighed Uriel in disgust. He excused himself from the council chambers, troubled. How had it come to this; his brethren plotting ways to manipulate not only mortals, but other divine beings as well? The last time he witnessed such a thing, it led to a war and resulted in the Morning Lord being cast out to rule over the damned in the Underworld, along with his supporters. Forever cut off from the light of the Divine.

He walked the marbled halls of the great temple, his sandaled feet eventually taking him into the rarely used holding area for rebel angels awaiting trial and judgment. It had been years since any prisoners were kept here, but now there was one—a small Frenchman whose fate had been forever changed by the fanatical wrath of angels and the curiosity of a corrupted death god.

He stopped before Jase's cell and watched the young man quietly, towering over him his small form even more than the Shinigami who had saved him from utter annihilation. The being once known simply as 'Death' had, in some ways, righted a wrong done to him by preserving his body and soul...though in an unnatural form.

"Hello, Jase," greeted the archangel softly.

The Frenchman slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hand clutching his nightshirt over his heart as he slowly turned to look at the angel. He didn't bother to hide his tears, and his voice cracked when he spoke, "Please—let me go back. I made a mistake—I need to go back to him…"

Uriel opened the cell and stepped in, kneeling before the small Frenchman and gazing at him with clear blue eyes. "I would grant your request if I could, but alas, it cannot be. You were tricked into this as the serpent tricked the first humans into eating from the tree of knowledge, but there may be a way to ensure your eventual return to your reaper companion."

"…How long?" He swallowed and risked opening his eyes a crack to look at the angel, hoping the bright light wouldn't burn his sensitive eyes too badly. The angel looked like a silhouette against the pure white. "I need him—it hurts to be away from him…It hurts him to be away from me… It feels like we are dying."

The angel nodded. "The bond forged between reapers and their chosen mates is indeed a strong one. I am sorry for your pain. With your cooperation, I may be able to procure a method to extract the holy fire from you. This was the folly of my brethren, and angelic light was never meant to be used by mortals—even one such as yourself."

Seeing the way the light pained the doll's eyes, Uriel solicitously extinguished the glowing lamps within the cell to dim it for him, and he stood up. "Jase, if it remains within you, it will eventually consume you. Your body is not designed for it. Much as I regret putting you through this, it truly is for the greater good that the holy flame be removed. In the meanwhile, what can I get for you that might make your stay more comfortable? More pillows? Cold water? A meal of your choice?"

"Thank you," Jase said finally able to look around without too much pain. He didn't trust this angel—or any angels, that was. But he was still an honest man, and he knew that at least one thing could very well be trusted.

"…I already know it's burning me up. It nearly has on a few occasions." He admitted, "Because of it, I can rarely feel temperature at all. I've nearly burned down a wooden wagon simply by touching it when I've gotten too hot—but Chronus…he cools me off. He keeps me at a safe temperature when drinking water isn't enough. He makes sure I don't burn up—even before he and I began to have feelings for each other."

Jase hugged himself, looking down. His hair falling over his shoulders and hanging on either side of his face, "If all Heaven truly wanted was to take the flame they put in me back out, then they wouldn't have attacked Paris. They wouldn't have attacked my home and burnt it to the ground. You wouldn't have had me tricked into coming up here. You angels could have just brought it up on a visit like a civilized being where my husband and I could discuss it with you. He knows more than I do, and seeing as it nearly killed me having it forced into my soul—it would likely kill me to rip it out again. You're right. I'm not made to have this fire within me. I am reminded of it every time my tears and sweat evaporate from my own skin in seconds. When steam raises when I climb into an ice bath. I have to drink water constantly to keep hydrated. You asked me if I would like anything—I'd like my canteen back, full. I brought it with me for a reason."

He looked up to meet the angel's gaze directly, "But I don't trust any of your kind when you tell me that all this is for my own good."

Uriel nodded in understanding. "One could hardly blame you. I will see to it that your drinking container is returned to you. I regret that this had to happen, Jase; at least believe that much. Your spouse will be informed of the situation as soon as the council reaches an agreement, and I will do what I can to see to it you are returned to him when it is finished."

* * *

 

"Well, this blows," Eric said simply, imitating words that Ronald Knox would use to describe the situation. He and his partner were waiting on the board to come to a decision after William presented his argument to them, with Alan's help. At first they were completely against trying to interfere with angelic matters, but William's precise logic and Alan's compassionate pleas wore them down enough to take a vote on the matter.

William stood by the window of his office, looking down at the sprawling Shinigami metropolis below. "Our chances of procuring intervention are better now than they were before," he reminded. In the back of his mind, he wondered how Ronald was fairing with Grell. He turned to look at Alan. "You presented a very good rebuttal, Humphries. I thought I might lose them for a moment, but you saved our case admirably. Well done."

"It was the least I could do." The brunet sighed, sitting on the small sofa in William's office, his arms crossed over his chest. "It would have been easier if any of the councel had ever taken the vow. Only those of us who have can truly understand what this is doing to Chronus right now, and what it can do to him if it's left as is for the long-term. But his history did help us for once Pointing out that if Jase dies by the hands of the angel that Chronus may fall back into his madness was a smart move."

He sighed again and stood up, walking over to slip his arms around Eric, "I had never seen the Undertaker cry as he was when we left this morning…clinging to that box Jase had carved him…"

Eric nodded, frowning slightly. "It was a disturbin' sight ta see. Tha man looked...well...mortal."

William clasped his hands together behind his back. "Even the Undertaker has his limitations. I did not enjoy exploiting them to make a point to the board, but it did give them a sound reason to consider the danger of leaving this situation be. With any luck, they will agree to at least attempt negotiations with the angels to procure Mr. Dubois' release."

"And soon, I hope." The brunet nodded, resting his head on Eric's shoulder, "Eric—don't you dare do something like this to me." he muttered so just his lover could hear.

The taller reaper rested his hands on his spouse's, smiling a little. "Ne'er. If it were up ta me, we'd be handcuffed together at all times, after all this."

"That'd make work difficult." Alan teased, "Don't worry, you know I'll spend as much time as possibly can with you." He risked a display of affection by pressing a kiss to his cheek.

* * *

 

"Really, Grell?" Ronald asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms as he looked at the shoes Grell was holding out to him. A pair of bright orange pumps that matched the red pair the redhead had tried on.

"You said that you are treating  _us_  to a shopping spree." Grell pointed out, "And you said that  _we_  will get whatever  _I_  want. So, what I get, you get." He repeated his counter for the twentieth time that day since they had started their trip to Downtown Reaper London. "Come on, orange is your color. It looks cute on you~"

Ronald already had sat through his nails getting done. Trimmed, shined, and painted. His hair had been trimmed (which it had needed) but also curled and styled. Haircuts had been followed by facials, makeup, and massages. The two had then taken lunch together before the blond found himself being dragged into clothing and shoe stores.

"Grell, you are filling my closet with more girly things that I own of things I actually wear!" In the bags he was carrying of purchases for himself and Grell, he found himself owning five different dresses, three pairs of heeled shoes, stockings, a garter belt, a few pairs of panties, and some 'cute' hairclips. One of which he was wearing by Grell's insistence.

"Ronnie. All you own is three suits for work and a handful of old shirts that got ruined when you got too drunk. I don't know how you can live like that!"

"Comfortably." Ronald shrugged, "And I'll never wear these things."

"Pshh," Grell pushed Ronald down onto a bench and yanked off his white oxford shoes to replace them with the heels. "Trust me, you'll wear them. You look cute in a dress. Even if only one person sees you in them." He winked before pulling him up onto his feet. "Plus you and I will be dressing up together once we finish spending the money in your wallet!"

"Wait, what? For what reason?"

"Because I want to have more fun. Think of it as my way of forgiving you for snatching up one of the most delicious bachelors. Don't think I haven't spotted that ring—you asked him to take the vow, right?"

"…Well, no, he asked me…"

"Really?" Grell's eyebrow arched in interest, "You snagged him good. I never would have thought he'd think of such a big commitment. Don't get me wrong. You're dating a man I don't think I could forgive, but—I'm happy for you."

"If you're happy for me then why are you torturing me?" Ron pouted.

"Because it helps me feel better for forgiving you." Grell said, "Come on, we are getting these shoes and wearing them out." Grell put Ron's shoes in one of their bags and then pulled the young reaper to get him to pay for the shoes. "Then we go find the perfect dresses to match them!"

* * *

 

William finished the last of his paperwork and he sighed, checking his watch. Eric and Alan had retired to the office they shared so that the latter could get some rest, and Ronald was still out on the town with Grell. As for the Undertaker, he had no idea how he was holding up and he intended to inquire about that later, so as not to disturb Alan's rest. The board was taking their time with the decision of whether to intervene with the angels on Jase's behalf, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If they couldn't arrive at a decision quickly, it at least meant that he and Alan had presented a strong enough case that they wouldn't shoot it down immediately.

He started to pick up the phone and call Ronald to find out how things were going on his end, but he decided he would just clock out and return home to wait for him. He dialed his secretary instead and instructed her to forward any further calls to his office to his mobile phone, and to inform Eric and Alan that he had left for the evening if they asked.

He locked up and took the elevator down to the first floor to clock out, and then he located his car in the parking garage and drove home to his apartment building. When he got inside, he started to remove his blazer and he walked to the bedroom, intending to try and have a short nap. He froze at the threshold when he found it already occupied but what he at first mistook for a young woman. He started to reach for his death scythe and demand to know what she was doing in his apartment, but then she swore in his lover's voice.

"Ronald?" William said uncertainly, his eyes widening a bit as he adjusted his glasses.

Ronald paled, turning slowly to look over his shoulder at his lover. Clad in a tight fitting dress. A white blouse-like top with short puffed sleeves and a square neckline clung to his torso under a high-waisted yellow-orange skirt that flared out at his hips, going down to his knees where a brighter orange-colored lace lined the hem. The sides of the skirt were corseted with orange ribbons. His legs clad with white stockings, and on his feet were the orange heels. On his arms were long, elbow-length lace gloves with tiny bows lining the edge to match the lace bow clip in his hair, pulling his hair back away from his face.

"W-Will!" He squeaked, "Y-you're home early!"

He had hoped to have changed out of the outfit Grell had made him wear before William got home.

The Dispatch supervisor stared at him, at his wit's end. "How," he sputtered, waving a gloved hand in an encompassing gesture. "Wh-what in heavens..."

He could not stop staring. From the delicate, puffy-sleeved blouse to the lacy, ribboned skirt to the orange pumps his eyes roved, and when he looked at Ronald's face again he blinked at the bow clip in his hair. His lips quirked as he regained enough sense to recall that he'd been on an outing with Grell, and suddenly he was doubly glad he hadn't chosen to treat the outrageous redhead himself. Despite the confused tangle of amusement and bewilderment he felt, he had to admit that Ronald looked rather cute in that ensemble.

"Well, he truly  _is_  a vindictive one, is he not?" William pressed two fingers against his lips as they threatened to grin outright. "I might have known." He'd even had Ronald's fingernails painted. William was not a reaper with a vivid imagination, but suddenly he imagined Ron as one of those small lap dogs being hauled around in Grell's purse after a trip to the groomer.

"He took the trip as an excuse to make me his doll…everything he got for himself he also got for me. What he wore out of the store, I had to. I think he was thinking I was a clone or a shadow… I let him because it made him happy but I had hoped to be changed and showered by the time you got home…"

With a defeated grunt, he dropped himself down onto the end of the bed, sitting with his legs apart in proof that he was no lady, despite what he wore.

William had never struggled so hard not to smile...and yet he was oddly intrigued by his companion's doll-like appearance. He walked over to the bed and he sat down beside him. "Honestly, it isn't that bad." He looked down at Ronald's sprawled, stocking-clad legs and before he knew what he was doing, he put a gloved hand on his knee and slid it deftly beneath the skirt. "Not bad at all."

He couldn't have said what in the name of Styx he was thinking. William was not usually one to give into impulse, but he felt a devilish urge to toy with Ronald a bit and enjoy this rare, endearing moment. He caught a whiff of some feminine, delicate perfume and he nuzzled Ron's neck.

"What is that fragrance?" inquired the brunet with interest.

Ronald shivered, genuinely surprised by William's reaction. He'd expected to be laughed at and mercilessly teased. "I'm not sure…some girly-smelling shit Grell sprayed on me when I wasn't looking… I think it had some French name. –does it smell that bad?"

"I actually find it pleasant," murmured the brunet. Dear gods, he was getting aroused. How unexpected. He slid his hand further up Ronald's knee and he delicately tongued his earlobe, feeling like his pants were getting too tight. "Perhaps you should ask Sutcliff. I wouldn't mind you wearing that perfume now and then."

"Really?" Ronald tilted his head, "I thought you'd hate it…" he shivered again as fingers ran over the strap of his garter belt and followed it higher, "…But you like all this stuff…" he accused.

William smirked, just as surprised by the revelation. "Perhaps it has more to do with who's wearing it," he suggested, his lips moving hungrily down the column of Ronald's throat. He began to flick open the buttons on his blouse and he cupped the swell of his groin beneath his skirt, massaging it through the panties he wore with the outfit.

"…Maybe I'll keep this stuff if it is an automatic turn on button for you…" Ron moaned, "I like not having to coax you into the mood after a long day at work…" his fingers tugged William's tie loose, soon tossing it to the floor before he began working open the buttons of his vest and shirt, his lips soon nibbling along his collarbone.

"Not a bad idea," approved William, still just as surprised as Ronald by his reaction.

He suspected it had to do with how innocent he looked in the ensemble. William had seen Grell in ladies' apparel more times than he could count on one hand, but it had never affected him this way. He eased his hand into the delicate panties and he gripped the blond's shaft, stroking it slowly as he worked his blouse open with his other hand. He guided Ronald onto his back and he shrugged out of his vest when it was unbuttoned. His body sang with lust, and the thought that this charming young reaper that had so many ladies tripping themselves for dates with him would soon be his spouse made him happy in a way he'd never experienced before.

"Ronald," he purred, his lips traveling down below his lover's collarbone as he parted the material of his blouse. He licked and sucked at the soft skin and he wedged a thigh between his.

"Will!" Ronald gasped, his lips twitching into a smile as he tried to tease his soon-to-be husband, covering his chest as if he suddenly was hit with shyness and modesty, "What kind of 'lady' do you think I am!"

William smirked and nibbled the blond's earlobe, his hand steadily stroking his length beneath the material of the panties. "Hopefully not the sort to tease a man overly."

"A tease? Me? Never!" The blond gasped, letting off a moan and shifting, his hips rolling into William's touch. Ron reached down, running his hand up along William's inner thigh, "No, I'm a good, innocent girl. I'd never…tease~" he said, his fingertips feathering over the bulge in William's slacks.

The older reaper tensed a little, his stomach clenching with anticipatory excitement. His trousers were most definitely too tight for comfort, now. He kissed his way back down to Ronald's half-bared chest and he started using his lips, teeth and tongue to finish unbuttoning the blouse the rest of the way. He slid his hand down the blond's body, still stroking him with the other hand, and he eased it beneath the skirt to cup his ass. He felt a garter belt on his thigh in the process of doing so and he again surprised himself with a groan of need.

William was in a conundrum, now. Should he rid his lover of his clothing, or would it be more exciting to leave all but the panties on and hitch his skirt up to take him? The latter thought definitely had an interesting appeal. He didn't know how to bring the subject up to Ronald and he wasn't sure how he would react if he just told him to leave everything but the shoes and panties on.

"What's that look for?" Ronald asked, lifting his legs and hooking his stocking clad legs over William's shoulders, the action causing his body to be dragged closer to William and his panty-covered rear to rub up against William's strained pants.

"Mmmh…" The blond bit his lip and moaned, closing his eyes as he rubbed up against that large package.

William hissed slightly with the friction, a small spot of dampness forming where the tip of his swollen length brushed against his clothing. "That 'look' is me trying to decide whether to tear that outfit off of you or simply ravish you with it still on," blurted the supervisor truthfully. "Honestly Ronald, you provoke the most unseemly behavior in me."

His flashing eyes and the way he began to rub back against the younger reaper belied his attempted tone of exasperation, though.

"So…I'm a good influence on you, then." The cocky blond smirked, rubbing up against the man further, "Good, because you've gotten me so hot… Oh~ Mister Spears, You make a good girl go mad with need for you~"

The truth was, he was just as curious as to if the man would strip him down or leave him in the skirts, and he aimed to find out, pushing the older reaper's limits. He reached down, his skirts lifting slightly as he pressed his fingers to his privates, "Ohhhnn… Please, I need to feel you. Be the bad influence I need, Mister Spears…"

William flushed, uncertain of how to respond to that. Since he lacked Ronald's natural ability to make witty, sexy comments, he demonstrated his intentions with a heated kiss. His reason for doing so was twofold; he wanted to plunder his mouth, but he also wanted to forestall further dirty talk for his own good. He was getting far too excited and the last thing he wanted to do was arrive too early.

He tugged on Ronald's panties, pulling them down over his hips with a low growl. Once the blond's erection sprang free of its confines beneath the skirt, William hastily undid his trousers to do the same for himself. His breath quickened and his tongue danced against the younger reaper's as he pressed his stiffened length against his, rubbing the bared flesh intimately together. He kept cupping Ronald's bottom as he ground against him, squeezing the delightful firmness assertively.

With a happy hum, Ronald reached down and gripped their shafts together, giving them a long, firm stroke. Repeating the motion, he broke the kiss to let out a long moan. "Oh, I want you…" with his free hand he reached up and removed William's glasses and setting them aside on the very edge of the side table. "Raw."

Finding it difficult to concentrate, the director was at first confused. He almost thought that Ronald meant to play the role of a demon supping on his soul, but the blond was too tactful to even suggest something so off-putting to him. Unrestrained...wild...vulgar. That must be his meaning. William flushed again, used to being carefully controlled; even when provoking Ronald into a frenzy. That control was slipping away more and more these days, though.

"You wish to be fucked, little princess?" he said huskily, hardly believing the words that were coming out of his own mouth. He took his hand off Ronald's bottom and he reached up to trace his parted lips with a finger. He couldn't even recall when they'd taken his gloves off. "Do you want me to ravish you...steal your innocence?"

_'Mother of Death, this depravity should not be exciting me this much.'_

And yet, it was. Different and thrilling, he found himself getting into it so much easier than he could have ever imagined.

Ronald's eyes widened, his cheeks red as he shivered under his lover. Never had he gotten William quite like this. Playing along with his silly little roles he sometimes threw into their foreplay to tease the older male. William had always maintained control, always stayed as himself despite Ronald's playful acts. But now…now he was playing along? Teasing back? Ronald was genuinely surprised and found himself speechless. With all the times he'd flirted and teased others throughout his reaper life; he'd never been rendered flustered in return.

Until now.

It took the blond a moment before he regained his wit and his teasing little act, "Yes," his voice didn't quite reach his words, leaving them a whisper, "yes, take it—take me, my handsome dark knight!"

William fumbled with the drawer of the bedside table, leaving off his caress of Ronald's lips to make a desperate dig for the tube of lubricant inside. He was forced to stop fondling him as well in order to balance himself, but he made up for it with a deep, passionate kiss. He rocked on top of the blond, a groan building in his throat as their flushed lengths rubbed together in Ronald's stroking hand. He nearly cursed when he couldn't immediately locate the item, but his fingers soon closed over the familiar tube and he pulled it out with a sigh of relief.

Still kissing his flushed, gasping lover, William popped the cap off with his thumb and squeezed enough out for his purpose, deftly using one hand. His tongue darted and danced against Ronald's as he lifted his hips a bit and shifted, reaching between their bodies and under Ronald's skirts to locate his goal. He broke the kiss and he looked down at the younger reaper, panting softly with need. Even at this short distance Ronald's features were slightly blurred, but William was too thoroughly invested in the encounter to complain about having his glasses removed. He smirked down at him ruthlessly as he penetrated him with a slippery finger.

"Such an eager little thing," he breathed, unable to help but pump into Ronald's squeezing grip as he wedged deeper inside of him. "And so tight."

"Ahhn! William!" Ronald threw his head back against the ruffled comforter spread across the bed, his legs parting on either side of his lover until the panties still on his legs stopped them from going further, trapped in place by the straps on the garter belts that held his stockings up. The restrictions to his movements were frustrating—yet, exciting. He gripped their lengths a little tighter and sped his strokes with a moan, his hips twitching upwards.

William struggled to pace himself, not wanting to get too eager and hurt the blond. "Soon enough," he promised huskily, easing another finger in. He pumped them steadily, kissing Ronald's panting lips and drinking in his cries. He curled both fingers strategically inside of him, seeking out the little lump that would make his body sing. He messaged it when he found it and he smirked again as the younger reaper jerked and cried out, his passage alternately tightening and loosening around the digits.

"Perfect," he murmured, his breath catching slightly as Ronald's stroking hand threatened to bring him to arrival.

Crying out, Ronald bit down on his finger in attempt to hold his cries back, his sweet spot being repeatedly hit and stroked deep inside him. "Ohh…fuck!" he twisted his body so he could bite down onto a pillow.

"Such language for a young lady to utter," admonished William with one last, firm rub of the little gland.

He was prepared enough. William doubted he would last for long if he allowed this frottage to continue. He withdrew his fingers and he applied more lube to them before urging Ronald's hand away and spreading it over his cock. Realizing that he could take him without even removing his panties, he bent the blond's legs back by the knees, exposing him for his purposes. William's cock twitched with eager anticipation as he gazed down at his breathless, shaken lover. Ronald looked both utterly lewd and astonishingly desirable right now, and a low growl rumbled in the brunet's throat as he folded his knees beneath him, cupped Ronald's bottom and pressed the tip of his arousal against his exposed entrance. He rocked forward, his breath escaping in a rush as he began to sink into that tight, slick heat.

"Mmmmphh!" the blond's cry was muffled into the pillow, his legs twitching, trapped in position by the panties and William's body leaning over him as he slid in. "Ahh-hh, y-you forced it out of m-me, using your fingers like that!" he gasped, looking up at William, "So rough, William…so good!"

Ronald twisted so he was fully on his back again before shifting his hips upwards to let William sink in further.

The brunet kept going until he was sheathed to the hilt, and his lips parted on a groan. He withdrew to the hilt and nudged back in at a different angle, searching for the best one to use in such a penetrating position. When he evoked another curse of ecstasy from his lover he knew he was stroking him just right inside, and he began to snap his hips with firm, rolling motions. His breath huffed and he stared down at the blond, squeezing his ass each time he thrust to encourage him to lift up with each pump.

It had been a while since he'd been this deep inside of him. Lately their encounters had been rather hurried, when they weren't interrupted. Other times they were both too exhausted and overworked to do much more than paw at each other and fall asleep in one another's arms. He had every intention of making the most of this encounter, and he wondered what he had ever been afraid of when Ronald tried to lead him into playing roles like this.

"Unh," he grunted, his excitement growing by the minute, rather than debating. His. Ronald was his. He'd never allowed himself to think so possessively about him before, always aware in the back of his mind that his lover could easily replace him if he ever grew bored of his conservative ways. Now that he'd promised to pledge himself to him, William knew it was real.

He thrust harder, listening to those helpless moans and cries as he plunged deep into Ronald, again and again.

"Will-! WILL!" Ronald cried out his lover's name upon nearly every breath he let out. His body heated, cheeks flushed, lips parted and eyes closed as he let his hands paw at and grip William's shoulders and arms. His body, with each thrust he took, rocking. His glasses being knocked out of place and eventually falling off completely, lying on the pillow above his head.

As William snapped his hips, Ronald's body began to beg. Beg for more, beg for release, beg for the moment to never end. They had never gotten this rough before, and it was thrilling and making the blond's mind tingle. It was reminiscent of a buzz, but better. The world around them faded away, but William was still clear as day. (Apart from the blur of his lack of glasses).

"Oh...ah, gods..."

The last tenuous hold William had on his precious self control snapped like the strings of a harp wound too tightly. He lifted Ronald's bottom further, pounding into him in a way he would never have risked before. Sweat beaded on his brow and his face was flushed with carnal felicity. Maintaining his support on his bottom with one hand, he reached between the blond's thighs with the other and curled his fingers around his straining erection.  _Hard...so hard_. He stroked his thumb over the drops of fluid dribbling slowly from the tip, smearing it over the taut flesh before stroking it firmly.

Ronald cried out, each cry getting cut off by the next with each of William's thrusts. The blond grabbed onto the brunet, the force of thrusts threatening to make him hit his head against the headboard of the bed if he let his body be moved any further up.

"Wi—Oh—Fu—Ple—GAHH-!" He was getting close. He could feel it, but he wasn't prepared for it; he didn't want it to end quite yet. This party for two was the best he could remember and he wanted to savor it.

William changed his rhythm to quick, shallow thrusts, feeling as though he might soon explode from the ecstasy. He stared down at Ronald with a faintly pained expression on his face, struggling to make it last as long as possible. "I'm afraid...your virtue is now thoroughly spoiled," he gasped, smiling a little at the panting, flushed blond.

"O-oh, what would Father say?" Ron gasped out between intakes of breaths. "Mmmhn…" he gripped Will's shoulders tight as his 'virtue' wasn't the only thing soiled. His body stiffened and the pressure finally gave in to release, coating the underside layers of the skirt he wore.

William closed his eyes as he felt Ronald clamping down on his sex, and he gave three more hard, sharp thrusts before burying himself deep and bowing over him with a groan. He couldn't draw breath as his climax struck him with intense waves—so intense that his body trembled. He managed to stay upright for exactly five seconds when the long, hard orgasm finally ended, and then he collapsed on top of Ronald, panting for breath.

"I think," he managed after a moment's recovery, "Your father would demand I marry you. Fortunately...I already have that intention."

"N-no…complaints…here…" The blond panted, draping his arms around his lover, "You break it, you buy it…I approve of the policy right now…" he gave a small chuckle, kissing William's neck. "…Keeping the dresses, too…"

William nodded and closed his eyes, easing out of his lover and relaxing a bit more. "I approve of that decision."

He absently ran a hand up Ronald's thigh, and when he felt the mess coating the inside of his skirts he smirked against his neck. "Although I believe we should have it dry-cleaned, after this."

"…Uhh…which one of us are going to take it into dry cleaning?" he flushed, embarrassed by the idea. It had been bad enough the time he had taken in a suit with the same sort of stains.

The brunet smirked and rolled onto his side, keeping one hand on Ronald's hip. "Well, considering it was I who engaged this encounter, I think I'm slightly more responsible for it than you are. I shall drop it off in the morning before work."

"Good! You can get the strange looks of dropping it off." Ron smirked, stretching out and snuggling up against his lover's side, "Mmm, but tonight was fun…I might even be sore in the morning." He added, smirk growing into a grin.

"I do hope I wasn't too rough," murmured William, cuddling him back. "I honestly couldn't say where that came from...though I did enjoy every moment of it."

He closed his eyes and sighed, sated and drowsy with the afterglow. They should get washed up and changed for bed, and then order in for dinner or attempt to cook something. Sadly, William wasn't much of a chef and Ronald was even worse. Together they'd nearly burnt down the kitchen one night, trying to fend for themselves. He simply had no time for culinary lessons and neither did Ronald.

"What would you like for dinner?" he inquired, fighting a yawn. "I believe I'll order something for us and have a shower while we wait on it."

"Mmmm…" the blond hummed, "Not too rough…was nice. Food will make tonight even better…" he chuckled and nuzzled into his lover, "…How about something easy without use of dishes? Pizza maybe?"

Unsurprised by his answer, William hid a smirk. He would personally prefer a meal of healthier fare, but he felt like spoiling Ronald a bit after such excellent lovemaking. He kissed his forehead and patted his hip. "Pizza it is, then. Why don't you get out of those clothes and ready the shower while I ring up our pizza parlor for a delivery?"

"What, afraid you'd jump me again if I stay all dolled up?" Ronald teased in a cooing tone. He sat up and wiggled to the edge of the bed before standing up and stretching with a groan. His skirts ruffled from their activity.

He then kicked out of the orange pups he still wore and got to work on the garter belts to allow him to remove the panties and stockings. "I'll also get the water running."

William paused in the act of getting out of the bed, his gaze caressing the blond as he watched him remove the tantalizing garments. "Perhaps the possibility of jumping you again isn't very remote," he confessed.

A brief smile flitted over his lips before he turned away and straightened his pants, not entirely joking. While Ronald got out of his clothing, William went into the kitchen to locate the number for the pizza place stuck to the refrigerator. His phone rang just as he was about to dial the number and he sighed when he saw the ID on the screen. Fully expecting it to be a call to return to work and deal with some new crisis, he answered it reluctantly.

"This is William T. Spears."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	12. Chapter 12

"Chronus?" Eric knocked on the door to the guest bedroom. "Can I come in?"

"It's open," answered the mortician in a ragged voice.

Eric opened the door, his hopeful expression dying at the sight of the ancient. Undertaker looked...gaunt. He'd always been a lean reaper, but it was like something was sucking the life right out of him...like he hadn't eaten for several days. He sat unmoving in the rocking chair by the window, staring out at the sky with a desolate expression on his face.

' _Saints an' demons...is this wha' happens to bonded reapers when they're separated from their spouse? He wasnae like this when he was in prison_.'

The Scotsman approached, unable to hide his concern. Indeed, the Undertaker had been separated from Jase before...for half a decade, even...but then, he knew he'd have him waiting for him when he got out. Additionally, Jase was still on the same plane as him throughout most of his incarceration, and he got to visit him regularly. Having him so far out of his reach without any certainty that he'd ever see him again was clearly taking a toll on the man now.

"I've go' some news fer ya," Eric said, walking over to the bed to sit down on the edge closest to the brooding reaper. "Jus' go' a phone call from Spears. Seems tha board has decided ta make contact wi' tha angels an' try ta negotiate fer Jase's release. Seein' as he's tha spouse of a reaper and thus under Shinigami protection, they've go' a good case ta present."

Chronus turned away from the window and looked at him through tangled locks of gray hair. The silver luster seemed muted somehow, as if even the shine of his hair had been dulled. "Do they have any word on his condition, yet? Has he been harmed?"

Eric sighed and shook his head. "I don' know, but I'm sure they wouldnae torture him jus' fer tha sake of it. We've got ta keep tha faith tha' he'll pull through this, Chronus."

The haunted, silver-lashed gaze lowered. "I'm trying, chap. It's just...difficult. Knowing he's up there, trapped with the beings that nearly burned away his soul...being unable to comfort him or protect him."

The mortician laughed bitterly and swallowed, shaking his head. "I can't say I've ever felt more helpless in my entire, long life."

Eric reached out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Ye'll be wi' each o'er again. Jus' stay strong fer him. He needs tha reaper he fell in love wi', aye? Tha man he vowed ta be wi' fer as long as ya both live. Dinnae turn into a shadow while he's away. Yeh need ta get up an' come eat somethin'. Yer meltin' away."

Undertaker gave a tired nod, looking down at his pallid hands and slowly flexing the long fingers. "I'll try to stomach something. Funny, I usually have the appetite of a horse."

Eric helped him out of the chair and steered him toward the door. "Ye've had a nasty shock. Maybe once ya start eatin' somethin', yer appetite'll kick back in."

"Where is Alan?" questioned the mortician as he walked out of the guest room with the blond reaper.

"He's havin' a wee nap," answered Eric. "He was tired after the board meetin' so he went ta lay down fer a while after supper."

"I see." Undertaker knew the young brunet reaper was growing weaker with each passing day, and he was grateful to Alan for his efforts. Being on his feet for too long fatigued him and it had to be emotionally stressful as well for him to attend that meeting, given his fondness for Jase. "I could make up a medicinal tea for him that might give him a bit of an energy boost, if you like."

"Worry abou' tha' later," insisted Eric, "after ye've put some food in yer belly. Jase'd ne'er forgive us if we let ye starve yerself."

* * *

 

The sun had set, and the moon was high in the sky, though distorted by clouds. Its light filtered to a soft, dim grey that didn't even make it through the windows of the master bedroom of Eric and Alan's home.

The brunet, still fast asleep from his nap, gave off a small whimper, a cold sweat breaking out over his pale skin. With a groan, he rolled onto his side near the edge of the bed, the wadded blankets from his tossing and turning falling off and onto the floor, leaving him shivering. And yet, he didn't awaken, even as a violent coughing fit took over and racked his body until he fell out of the bed as well. His throat raw from the coughing fit.

Eric sensed his distress before he heard the coughing. He was watching the news with the Undertaker and having a nightcap with him, trying to take his mind off his captive mate and keep him company. He froze with his scotch halfway to his lips, his eyes widening behind the blue-tinted lenses of his glasses.

"Alan," he gasped, hand going to his chest.

He went to set his snifter on the coffee table and he missed entirely. It tumbled to the floor and spilled, but he hardly noticed. He was up in a flash and charging for the master bedroom.

Guessing that something was wrong, the Undertaker set his drink down, too, and went to follow. By the time he arrived in the bedroom, Eric was on his knees cradling Alan's pale, fragile form in his arms.

"Alan! Can ya hear me, sweet'eart?"

Undertaker tilted his head, momentarily forgetting his own angst at the sight of the ailing young man. Though he hadn't answered his spouse, Alan instinctively reached for his hand and squeezed it, whimpering through his ragged coughs. Bloody spittle flecked his lips and his body shook helplessly.

"I'll ring the hospital," offered Chronus. He felt responsible for this fit. If Alan hadn't over-fatigued himself to help convince the board to negotiate with the angels—but no, it was the boy's decision to help. These fits would just keep getting worse, regardless of what Alan or anyone else did to try and alleviate them.

"Thanks," said Eric absently. He held Alan's hand tightly and he rocked him, speaking to him in an effort to try and comfort him. "I'm righ' here, dear heart. Jus'...jus' try ta relax."

He swallowed hard, feeling his pain on a spiritual level, if not on a physical one. It was an odd, phantom feeling that didn't quite translate into normal pain. It cut into his very soul, and the only thing worse was having to see his love struggling against the agony coursing through him. Eric kissed his hand and his vision blurred.

"Shh, it's a'right," he soothed. "Chronus is gettin' help. Jus' listen ta my voice and hold tight, Al."

Alan whimpered between coughing fits, curling up against his lover in his arms, hardly noticing the spray of blood coating his husband's shirt after each cough. He could feel his heart beating faster, struggling in its rhythm and sending familiar shocks of pain through his body.

He was getting worse…getting closer to his death, and it terrified him. As a reaper, he was used to being able to sense the death's aura surrounding a dying person…but he could start to feel it surrounding him. It wasn't thick and suffocating yet, but he couldn't ignore that it was, in fact, there and attaching to him.

How many? How many attacks would he survive? It was all too soon for him…he wasn't ready to leave Eric's side…he didn't want to. Yet, he started to choke on his own blood.

"U-Undertaker?" called Eric nervously, lifting his spouse a bit more in an attempt to help him clear the fluid from his lungs.

"On the bell with them now," called the older reaper's voice from the hallway. "Just stay with him and keep him calm 'till they get here, chap. They're sending someone via portals now."

Eric tried to calm himself, and he forced a smile for Alan's sake. "Hear tha', bonny love? They're on tha way. Stay wi' me, Al."

Alan looked up too meet his gaze, letting out a few more choked coughs into his bloody hand. "N-Not ready too…" he choked, "Eric…"

Directly outside their door, a wide swirling portal opened and a medical team stormed in through their door, being directed back to the bedroom where they took the brunet from the blond's reluctant hold and put him on a stretcher to get him to the hospital quickly before the portal closed.

Undertaker hesitated for only a moment. "Right behind you, lad. I've just got to grab something."

He hurried into the guest room and he snatched up the box that Jase had carved for him, before running back into the master bedroom to follow behind before the portal closed up.

* * *

 

With the sun came the rather sudden planned meeting between Heaven and Reapers. The meeting being held in the large council room on the top floor of the Library. Security was high, guards of both reapers and angels lined the halls, neither trusting the other as though they were under a peace treaty; they had attained no trust between realms.

Members of the High board of Reapers gathered around the table on one half of the meeting room, while the archangels gathered around the other along the windows where the most sunlight shown.

Along with both groups of the highest representatives of each immortal race, a few specially privileged members were also allowed to attend. On the Angel's side the angel who had captured Jase sat smugly in her chair, along with a few others. Jase standing between two of them, his hands bound.

On the reaper side sat William, Eric and Undertaker. Alan's seat being empty. The brunet hadn't been discharged from the hospital. His condition being too critical for the medical staff to allow him to be discharged. Alan had insisted Eric go to the meeting to help get Jase back. Eric had tried to refuse, wanting to stay by Alan's side, but Alan had his ways of getting what he wanted from Eric when it was important. And Jase's safety was just that.

An hour dragged by, then three, then six…still they had gotten no where. The angels were stubborn in keeping the 'abomination' that was Jase within their grasp, and it was starting to feel helpless.

As Uriel watched the longing looks exchanged between the Undertaker and Jase, an idea came to him that might at least allow them to be together once more, even if it might be their last time. It had consequences with it, though...consequences that would not be so good for the reaper. He stood up, his violet gaze staying on the Undertaker.

"We cannot release the prisoner from our custody while the holy fire remains in him. However, his 'creators' cooperation could ensure that he does not get purified. Many of my brethren want Mr. Dubois to be removed from the picture entirely."

He held up a hand for silence when Chronus and Eric both started to protest. "I believe a compromise could be reached that may ensure Jase's survival, if it pleases the council."

The angels murmured amongst themselves with intrigue, as did the reapers. Undertaker had eyes only for Jase, and he didn't take them off his spouse as he nodded. "Whatever you gents want of me, I'll do it."

Uriel nodded, unsurprised. Love was a powerful thing, indeed. "You have broken the laws of Heaven  _and_  the middle realm with your tampering with human life." He gestured at Jase. "But your spouse is not to blame for your actions. If the council of my brethren will agree to free Jase once the holy fire is extracted from him, would you submit yourself to their justice?"

There was little doubt that said 'justice' would eventually lead to his death, but Chronus nodded without hesitation. "If it means my Jase will get to live, absolutely."

"Now, wait a moment," William said, attempting to stall the verdict, "What proof do we have that the angels will honor their side of this bargain? I see nothing 'just' about this. The Undertaker has already done his time for his crimes and repented for them."

"Not to us," reminded one of the archangels with a thoughtful look at the mortician. "He has never answered to Heaven for his crimes."

"Jus' how many places do ye expect tha man ta answer to?" growled Eric. "How many times can he 'answer fer' his actions before yer all satisfied? Sounds like vindictive greed, ta me."

William shushed the Scotsman, who was getting angrier by the moment. "You realize you are asking us to surrender a legend amongst our kind to your 'good justice', without offering anything in return? We are all quite aware that Chronus would willingly give his life for his husband, but what assurance can you offer us that it won't be for naught?"

Uriel considered it for a moment, pacing back and forth in thought. The tips of his great, golden wings brushed the floor with his robes. Finally, he stopped, his feathers ruffling slightly and then smoothing back out as he made his decision.

"I offer myself."

Now it was time for the angels to protest, and he again held his hands up for silence. "It is only fair. We ask them to relinquish one of their elders to us for punishment, why not give them one of ours in exchange? When it is finished and Jase is released safely, they will release me. Should my brethren not honor their part of the bargain, the Shinigami can put me to death, and I will not fight them."

"No!" Jase spoke up for the first time, his guard angel gripping his shoulders to hold him in place. "Chronus! Don't!" he looked around the room, "This idea will only hurt more people. We can't trust t—MPHH!" The guard clamped his hand over Jase's mouth.

"We didn't bring you so you could voice opinions, abomination." He hissed.

Jase glared at him, but then looked at his lover with pleading eyes.

"We don't make it a habit of taking prisoners and killing them without a real reason." A female reaper stated, "We want Legendary Death back when we get mister Dubois back."

The angelic council discussed it in whispers amongst themselves, before giving their answer to Uriel. He nodded and gazed at Undertaker with some regret in his eyes. "We have an accord. The ancient will be returned to you after he has faced justice for his crimes."

"You mean his body," corrected William with narrowed eyes.

Uriel lowered his gaze. "I fear that will be the case, yes."

Eric shook his head and slammed his palms against the table. "This is nae right! Ye can't jus' slaughter tha man, ya craven, bloodthirsty—"

"We are in agreement," said one of the Shinigami high councilmen. "Officer Slingby, please contain yourself. Legendary Death has agreed to this, and in the interest of keeping peace, we will abide by his decision. Guards, please escort the archangel Uriel away. Chronus, we regret that we could not procure your spouse's freedom another way. Are you ready to go with the angelic host?"

Undertaker was smiling a bit painfully, his eyes on Jase. "Ready when they are. Thanks for the attempt, chaps."

"I'm not lettin' these bastards do this," snarled Eric.

He started to manifest his death scythe, but William clamped a hand on his arm and gave him a stern shake of the head. "Starting a war will not help anyone. We can put in an appeal for further intervention, Slingby."

The Scotsman deflated, his eyes helplessly seeking out Jase as the Undertaker was fitted with glowing shackles and ushered off. The guards took Jase as well, and Eric grasped at the only straw left to him. "We'll find a way, Jase. Jus'…remember ta read yer book. It's probably more help to ya right now than we were."

Tears were overflowing the doll's swirled eyes, his body temperature increasing as his emotions ran away with him. –They were going to kill him! Kill Chronus for a crime he had already served punishment for! And why? Because he made the mistake of trusting that the angels wouldn't hurt anyone else if he agreed to turn himself over.

He had killed his soul mate in an attempt to protect him.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	13. Chapter 13

Chronus shuffled down the sunbathed, white marble corridors between his captors, his eyes on the small form of his husband up ahead. They wouldn't allow them to touch one another, and apparently they had no intention of putting them in the same cell. Still, just being near Jase again was a relief to him, like part of him that had gone missing was replaced. The only regret he had about his decision to let them take him was that he knew Jase would feel whatever they did to him—at least in spirit. He might not suffer the physical pain, but that was a cold comfort. He'd have to be strong for him, to cause him as little trauma as possible. But he could feel Jase overheating. It wasn't at a dangerous level quite yet, but he would need cooling off. This would all be for naught if his love burned up.

"He needs to be cooled off," said the reaper with a nod at his spouse, who was practically being carried by his angelic guards after exhausting himself with protests and struggles. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you lot that if Jase crisps before he gets released, our deal is off."

His two guards looked at one another, and then one of them reluctantly called out to their fellows up ahead. "Put them in the same cell for a short while," he instructed. "Long enough for the reaper to cool the fires within his abomina—"

The angel suddenly gasped as Undertaker dug an elbow hard into his side; the only way he could strike at him. "Call him an 'abomination' in front of me again and I'll forget to be so cooperative, Feathers."

The angel scowled at him and flew over to the cell they'd been preparing to put him in. He unlocked it, grabbed Jase and pushed him in. "Be careful, Death." he warned Chronus as he too was pushed into the cage. "We agreed not to harm the ab...the doll beyond what is necessary to extract the holy flame from him, but we made no such promise concerning you."

Undertaker stumbled a bit, nearly falling on top of his mate due to the shackles still hampering his ankles. He grimaced and turned, shaking his hair out of his eyes and grinning wildly at the angels as they closed the cell again.

"No, but I'll bet your council wouldn't be too happy if you rough up your sacrificial lamb too much, yeah? Now shoo, so I can take care of this. I'm sure you chaps would find it unwholesome to watch, anyway."

"You have five minutes," said the lead guard, and he and the others walked away, leaving the couple alone together in their cell.

As soon as they were gone, Jase pushed himself up and, eager for his lover's touch, stumbled to him, meeting him in the middle of the small cell and wrapping his arms tight around the tall reaper, "Why..? They'll kill you!" He sobbed, "They'll kill you—I'm sorry I made such a horrible mistake, I'm sorry! B-but you shouldn't have agreed to this!" he cried into his chest. "T-two stupid self-sacrifices don't make for a good ending for either of us! Why'd you have to be my Juliet—or Romeo… I can't even remember which of them were the first to get themselves killed…but…" he choked and swallowed, tilting his head back and before he knew it, he had pulled the reaper down into a kiss.

Undertaker felt like crying too. "You know, I never knew true hell until I woke up to find you missing," he murmured between kisses. It was awkward because his wrists were shackled, but he slipped his arms over Jase's head and dropped them down to encircle him. He kissed the heated tears away as he called upon death's chill to cool his spouse down.

"Whatever made you think I wouldn't tear down Heaven itself if I had to, Jase? You know I'm a mad old thing. They just might kill me if our Dispatch friends can't work the system to get us both free, but I'm old as sin. You...you've barely had the chance to live, and if they take me to my death, at least I'll go down knowing you're alive and have people that love you almost as much as I do, to turn to."

"How could I go on without you? I don't think…that I'm strong enough, mon amour. Old as sin…old as time…but  _our_  time together has only just started. Chronus…" he stretched onto his tiptoes to better meet the reaper's towering height. His shirt of his pale blue pajamas lifting up and exposing his belly as he did so. "I don't want to spend another day without you. They hate you, here. Everyone. The guards, they speak of you as if you were dirt or the very cause of sin…the serpent. But…if that's true, then you are my sin and I won't repent. Chronus…I want us to leave together—alive. I can't bring you back like you did me. I can't make you into a doll…I can't…I can't heal your soul once they burn it away…"

The thought of returning to the nothingness that he'd been born of did frighten Undertaker a little, but he smiled tenderly at Jase and tried to soothe him. "My dear, if that does happen, part of me will still exist within you. You've got a fair chunk of my soul...forever. But let's not plan my funeral just yet. We've got some powerful people on our side and they just might manage to get us both out of this, the way they did before when I was on trial. Just try not to think about it right now and give me another kiss."

Jase hugged him tighter, practically lifting himself off the floor to kiss him once more.

There had to be a way out of this... The angels wouldn't give in. They wanted to punish Chronus...they waned to tear the flames from his body...both of which could kill them both. The angels wished for nothing more that the reapers could give in exchange that he knew of. They were stuck. And it disgusted him that he had once praised this very place and all who resided there.

The guards returned while they were in the middle of the kiss. "It is time to go, reaper. The council has decided to begin your punishment. You are to be purified, though given your age and species, it will take several cleansings to complete the process."

Undertaker frowned at them. "Not even a trial? My, you pigeons are eager to string me up. Afraid my old associates will find some loophole to get me out before you can have your reaper barbeque?"

"Silence," ordered the lead guard, and he nodded at his companions to open the cage. "Separate them and escort the Shinigami prisoner to the chamber of light for purification."

Undertaker looked at his husband as they opened the cell and stepped in to retrieve him. "I love you, darlin'. I don't regret a thing."

"Well I do!" Jase insisted, not letting go of his lover, even as an angel guard started to pull him away, "No! It's too soon! Let go of me you ugly vulture!" he said, kicking the angel's knees. "Stop! Get your hands off him! Chronus!" he screamed as his grip on his lover slipped and they were torn from each other's arms.

"This isn't justice! None of you know anything of compassion! I hope your wings fall off and your stupid glowing halos choke you!"

Undertaker couldn't help but smirk at that one, even as his heart broke at Jase's fierce, tearful protests. He instinctively strained against his captors, wanting to comfort his spouse and tell him everything would be all right. "Tell the Slingphries thank you for me, dollie," he called, his voice breaking slightly, "for taking such good care of you."

Something slipped out of his inner robe pockets and clattered to the floor in his struggles. It was the semi-charred keepsake box that Jase had carved for him; the one thing they'd managed to salvage from the remains of their burnt home.

Jase froze, his gaze dropping to the box he had so delicately worked on for weeks in secret for the man that became his lover and husband. The man that angels wanted to destroy.

Upon impact with the floor, the carved flowers that had been on the box snapped off; only further damaging the keepsake. Jase seemed to deflate. The passionate fire fueling his protests distinguished as if it had been doused with water. This was it…this was to be the end of everything good in his life…the end of the one he loved most in the world…

"Don't…Don't take him from me…please…" he choked out. paying no mind as his guard shoved him back into his own cell and locked the door quickly.

Chronus was blindfolded and dragged off, not a single one of the angels paying any mind to Jase's heartfelt plea. One of them stepped on the box in passing, shattering it to bits. The reaper under their guard hung his head when he realized what that sound was, and his silver hair swished as he shook it.

"I've seen demons with more compassion than you've shown. 'Forces of good' indeed." He spat in the general direction of one of his handlers, and the saliva landed on a sandaled foot.

Undertaker was treated to a sharp prod in the side from the angel he'd spat on, and he grunted and doubled over. "Watch your tongue, reaper. You'll only make this worse on yourself."

* * *

 

The time ticked by painfully slowly. Jase sat in the corner of his cell, leaning against the bars helplessly. Able to feel all too clearly Undertaker's pain as the angels began to purify him. He could feel the energy being drained from his soul mate. He could sense his fear and tears…

And he could do absolutely nothing.

The bars of his cell were far too thick and secure. Again, he began to blame himself for Chronus' fate. If only he had sat tight and trusted the reapers to find a way to deal with the angels themselves…

With a cry of frustration, he kicked the cot he slept on, causing it to topple over, his copy of the bible falling out from the sheets, and a slip of paper falling from its pages.

A sigil.

He had forgotten he had hidden them in the holy book. Scrambling forward on his hands and knees, paying no heed as to how his knees scuffed against the rough marble stone floor as he snatched up the bible and quickly flipped through the pages to find each hidden sigil. He didn't care when a few pages got ripped, and once he was sure he had them all, he tossed the bible aside carelessly.

He only had five sigils. He'd have to use them carefully.

"Guards! I—I need water—please!" He called out tearfully, holding his canteen out between the bars.

"You were just cooled off, you need no such thing." The guard at the end of the hall called back.

"I'm over-emotional thanks to you purifying the love of my life!" he insisted, "I'll overheat—and then where will you be?"

The angel sighed and walked down towards the doll, reaching to snatch the canteen away, pausing when he realized it was still half-full. He scowled and turned to sneer at the prisoner—only to gasp out when a small hand smacked a square of paper to his chest, another hand quickly snatching at the keys on his belt.

Keys in hand, Jase backed up against the far wall, watching with wide eyes as The angel holding his canteen started to call out, only to be cut short when the sigil pressed to his chest began to glow a deep purple color, growing quickly and engulfing the angel. The symbols of the sigil swirling around him faster and faster before their was a loud crack and the angel was gone within seconds of the sigil being used against him.

Wasting no time, Jase hurried to the door and reached through to unlock his cell, rushing out as soon as he had freed himself and running down the way Undertaker had been taken.

"Hold on a bit longer, Chronus-!"

* * *

**To be continued...**


	14. Chapter 14

Restrained to a marble slab, Undertaker tensed as another wave of holy fire beamed down on him from above. He'd already lost a couple of memories under the assault—burned away with a fragment of his soul. He was fighting it though, clinging to the faint hope that something would change to delay it—if not put a stop to it. He clamped down on the memories that meant the most of them, layering them beneath the lesser ones. Let them burn away parts of his past; it was his present that he valued the most.

"That tickles," he panted when the assault stopped for a moment. He was amused that these powerful beings could only maintain the level of energy required to burn him for short periods of time, hence the bursts of it, rather than a steady flow.

"So smug," observed one of them, "but we will soon bring you to heel, reaper."

"I wouldn't count on that," he said with a laugh. "Just ask Dispatch. But just to be fair, since you're all making me so nice and toasty, allow me to cool you off a bit."

He summoned the chill that he'd really only used for dramatic flair when reaping, until he'd met Jase. The interesting thing about it was that it seemed capable of countering holy fire and muffling it, to a certain point. A cold fog began to billow out from around the restrained reaper, filling the room and clouding the air with a chill that went straight to the bone.

"Stop that! Stop that at once!" cried one of his captors in outrage.

"Stop what?" asked Chronus benignly. "You folks seem a bit hot under the collar. I'm just trying to cool you off a bit."

He snickered. This was the second time he'd done this, and it reinforced his defenses against their angelic fires. He wondered if it was fate, that he and Jase had come together. Him with Death's chill, Jase with Heaven's fire...yes, they balanced one another.

"You swore to cooperate," reminded another angel as the fog began to dissipate again.

"Right," agreed the mortician, "but I never swore to make it easy on you, did I?" He kept making them have to start over again to break through and get to his soul...and by the time they did that, they could only burn him so much before they needed to rest.

He heard a sigh. "Begin again," instructed the leader, and the holy fire came down again.

* * *

 

Jase hurried though the halls of Heaven, searching for his husband and using their shared senses as a guide. Hiding when he could, and using the sigils when he had to until they were all used up and he was helplessly moving forward on his search.

Passing a wide pane-less window, the doll stopped, turning to get a better look. Inside was a large room, of which he was closer to the domed ceiling than he was the floor. Far below was a circle of twelve angels around a sacrificial alter, upon which lay Undertaker, strapped down in a way that mimicked Jesus upon the cross. The angels were flying a few feet above the reaper, seeming to pool their powers to form a ring of holy fire, building it up strong before directing it down onto the helpless legend of the realm of death.

Jase watched helplessly as the flames crashed down onto the reaper's chest, burning more and more of his ancient soul away.

It was the only thing he could think to do, and his actions never registered in his mind as he leapt through the open window, arms spread out as he fell, within the second landing atop one of the angels and knocking him to the ground out of the circle, causing the fire ring to weaken and diminish. White wings flailed on either side of him.

"Jase?" Undertaker lifted his head off the slab as best he could, thinking his senses were muddled. He couldn't possibly be in there...and yet even with his eyes bound shut, he could feel him...even smell him. He heard a ruckus, heard cries of surprise, and he heard Jase's desperate voice shouting

"No! You lying peacocks!" The reaper strained against his bonds until they began to cut into his wrists and ankles, drawing blood. They must have brought his love in there with the intention of forcing his cooperation.

"I won't have you harming him." Anger boiled within him, and the chill came back of its own accord. He felt a strange sort of animalistic savagery from his mate, like a creature caught in a trap, finding its courage when it was backed into a corner. He heard one of the angels scream in surprise, felt something warm and hot splatter his exposed forearm, and he focused his abilities as best he could.

"Jase..." His bindings froze solid and snapped. There was a ruckus of wings, yells and exclamations. The entire room was now cloaked in fog...he couldn't help it, he'd finally been pushed beyond the breaking point. It was colder than the grave and when he managed to snap the restraints on his wrists, he sat up.

Chronus yanked his blindfold off, but attempting to open his eyes did no good, so he called forth his death scythe and he listened with his other senses. "Jase! What's going on?"

The angels had sewn his lids shut before beginning on him, so using his other senses was never more important than it was now.

When he had landed, Jase had struggled with the angel that had broken his fall, and soon the others had come to aid the angel, yanking Jase from him and wondering how he had gotten free. They planned upon taking Jase back to his cell, but Jase was too determined to save the one person in his world that mattered the most.

But he had no more sigils and had no time to make more. And in his desperation—only one thought came to him. It went against so much that he stood for, but he made the drastic choice on his own.

It shocked him how easy it was to give in to his own savagery. His Bizarre Doll instincts…

Without a single corrupted human in sight, Jase was able to throw himself into his dollish mindset. His face blank, body stiff, yet quick. Paying no mind to the pain searing his sight ever since he had left his dimmed cell, he ducked out of the angel's grasp and turned on her, sinking his teeth deep into her arm above the elbow, tearing a huge chunk of flesh from her bones, earning a scream of pain.

But his mind was not totally blocked out unlike when he was exposed to the corrupt human souls. He sensed another angel closing in and he turned on him, sinking his teeth into his neck, sending all the angels into a panic when they realized what was happening under the thick blanket of fog.

"GET THAT ABOMINATION UNDER CONTROL!" The angel leading the purification shouted, watching as one-by-one his team of angels fell, screaming in pain. Some in more critical condition than others.

The fog grew thicker, and the angel couldn't see anything, simply hearing the sounds of shouts, cries, and fighting. And then, the fog seemed to part, Jase walking towards the altar, tossing a severed white wing off to the side as he drew closer with his steady stride. His pajamas were stained with blood, and his hair was down out of it's usual ponytail. His blank face was dripping blood—most of it coming from his mouth—and his eyes glowing white; the angels actually able to see the holy flames burning behind the swirled irises.

The angel summoned his light weapon, a sword of fire. He then slipped behind Undertaker and held the flaming blade to the reaper's neck, "Take one more step, Abomination, and I'll purify him the easy way. The way he'll have no chances at surviving!" he spat.

Jase paused in his steps, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

"Wha—what's going on here?" demanded Chronus again—and then he felt the hot blade against his throat. He then sensed Jase's anger...like a tiny force of vengeance itself, multiplied into a righteous hurricane...and he started to smile in spite of himself.

"Oh...my, my. That you, darlin? Goodness, you're a fierce little sweet right now!"

"Drop the scythe, reaper!" shouted an angel from somewhere to the left.

Undertaker chuckled, feeling the blade tremble against his throat. "I think someone's overstepped themselves. Jase...my love...I say it's time we depart. I go low and you go high, yeah?"

It was an odd thing to say, considering that Jase was so short and Undertaker was so tall. He trusted his enraged mate to sense his meaning though, and the reaper tossed his head back abruptly. The back of his skull hit his captor in the chin—not quite his intended target, but even a reaper of his height wasn't quite tall enough to reach an archangel's nose—and the holy nightmare staggered and loosened its hold on him.

Undertaker went suddenly limp and slid out of the angel's hold like water, and he rolled toward the sound of the other angel that had demanded he disarm himself. "Here you go, chap," he cried with glee. "Dropping it as requested...right on your bloody head."

As the reaper did this, the doll took action, running at the angel and taking a flying leap up and off the altar to gain height, his aim taking a risk on which way the angel would move, but the risk paid off as he tackled him to the ground, his teeth clamping down on the angel's jaw with such force that the bone shattered.

Undertaker felt his mate's carnal satisfaction even as he heard the angel scream, and his maddened grin stretched further as he dispatched his own opponent. The cinematic records spilled from his victim's body as he reached a hand out and back in the direction he sensed Jase.

"Well, if it's to be a jail break, we can't very well linger now, precious."

Automatically, Jase spun around without a thought, biting down on his lover's hand, but quickly releasing as he realized it wasn't the hand of a threat—but of his husband. It was enough to snap him out of his dollie mode and back to fully realizing what was happening.

He gagged and spat the blood from his mouth, whipping his chin, "Y-yes…we…should go home…"

Undertaker hissed at the sting of the bite and nodded, too elated and proud of Jase for coming to his rescue to hold a grudge. "And here I thought you were a timid thing...shame on me."

He put an arm around the doll and he started to guide him by feel. "Mind you, I've really got no idea where we're going. Bloody hell, wait a moment."

It occurred to him that the need to find a location out was not necessary. "Sorry love...head's all scrambled. I can get us back to the Slingphries, I think."

He bent over to kiss Jase on the forehead. "Thank you for fighting for us, my dear."

"I'm sorry I bit you….I…thought you were an angel at first…" Jase flushed, huddling close to the reaper, "What…did they do to you? Are you feeling okay?" he asked, reaching up to touch his face, "Your eyes…"

"Love, I could climb the heavens right now, I'm feeling so proud and elated," admitted the ancient with a smile. "I wish I could gaze into those pretty swirled eyes of yours right now, but we can't linger. I'll be fine."

With that reassurance, Undertaker created a portal. It was heavy work on him...harder to accomplish being under the constraints that  _he_  not try for himself...but they'd never said anything about him and his spouse when they'd demanded he agree to their terms.

"Hold tight, Jase," he warned, "this might not take us directly to where I intend; but it's better than here."

Jase nodded, "As long as it doesn't lead to just another part of Heaven, I'm fine." He said, "But we need to get you to the hospital…"

"We'll see about that after we're gone from this holy piece of shit," answered Chronus.

He could hear the warning bells ringing. They had precious moments to spare. "Still don't know how you did it, but you're a fancy li'l legend in my eyes, Jase. Let's go!"

* * *

 

William feared that he might soon need to have Eric Slingby restrained and brought into custody. When the conjoined councils made their ruling and the Shinigami representatives walked away, Eric was incensed. William could tell that the other reapers in the court empathized with him, but he feared that the Scotsman might soon do something rash.

He got confirmation of his fears when they arrived at Dispatch headquarters and Eric told Ronald and Grell about what happened. Grell of course was angry over the thought of losing another Shinigami man he believed he might have had a chance with, but Ronald was angered purely on the principle of the issue.

"Oh heavens," muttered William as a gaggle of reapers began to debate the situation. He frowned when he noticed the way Eric was creeping out of the conversation and back towards the elevator.

"And now you. Why did they ever employ Celts?"

Of course, he said these things breathlessly—practically employing soundless mouthing to his complaint. He walked up to Ronald first, his head already pounding.

"Ronald," he murmured into his lover's ear, his gaze subtly fixated on the tall form of Eric.

"Hmm?" Ronald frowned, looking up at his lover, "We have a right to be upset! This whole thing is unjust! The council just doesn't want overtime! Never mind the fact that those fluffballs plan to kill one of our great elders!"

"And for what?!" Grell hissed, "Because Unnie went and tried correcting their own mistake in his own way with that little  _gosse français_!"

Faintly surprised by Grell's expressed support, William urged both of them off to the side. "I believe Slingby is about to act against protocol. How sincere are you both about this?"

"Eric's always thinking about breaking protocol." Grell waved his hand in a shrug, "And he's almost as fond of Dubois as he is Alan. It wouldn't surprise me if he stormed the pearly gates. He's a passionate man~" Grell giggled and wiggled as his mind took off with him.

"What do you mean, Will?" Ron asked, ignoring the wiggling red annoyance beside him, "Are you suggesting we help him break the rules and go after Jase and the old geezer?"

"As supervisor of this department, I certainly can't suggest such a thing," William answered slyly, "but not even I can have an eye on him twenty-four seven, so should they act of their own accord when my back happens to be turned, I can't very well report it."

He looked at his watch. "In fact, I must take my leave now. I have a hospitalized officer to check in on. Good day, and please think consider practicing some caution."

He deliberately turned his back on them and headed for the elevators on the opposite side of the hall. Inwardly, he hoped that he wasn't making a huge mistake in giving them the silent nod to break protocol if they felt the situation warranted it. He was particularly worried about his betrothed's safety, but he had learned to trust Ronald's ability to land on his feet. Pity he couldn't violate protocol himself, but someone with influence in the department needed to be there to pull strings in the background and try to set a more official intervention into motion.

' _Please watch yourselves_.'

Ron sighed, waiting until his lover disappeared before glancing at Grell, "And that's that." He muttered, "Think we should go check on Eric, make sure he doesn't do anything rash without us?"

Grell crossed his arms, seemingly bored, "Slingby's a total amateur. He'll need someone to make sure he does things right! I'm the only reaper here with experience in breaking the rules and getting away with it—since Unnie's all got himself locked up in a Damsel in Distress status. Honestly! What was that man thinking?"

"…He was thinking that he loves his husband."

"Hmph! Love makes men do idiotic things."

"Yes, it does… But it's worth it." Ronald frowned and placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder, "You'll meet the right guy eventually, Senpai. I know you will. You're a Lady to die for, after all." He grinned and winked at his senior.

"Little children like you shouldn't be giving a fully-grown lady like me advice on love!" Grell growled playfully, pinching Ron's cheek and giving it a little tug. "Now," he grabbed Ron and threw him over his shoulder before heading to the lifts himself, "Lets go make sure Slingby doesn't do anything stupid!"

* * *

 

Eric blinked when a red and black, high-heeled boot wedged into the elevator doors before they could close completely. They opened back up and Grell came in, with Ronald Knox slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Goin' down?" he asked, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"I haven't the slightest idea." Ronald muttered, "Seems I'm just along for the ride."

"Sooo~ any plans for tonight, Slingby?" Grell cooed, poking the Scotsman's cheek.

Eric regarded them warily. His partner had conditioned him not to lie, being a big believer in honesty between colleagues and lovers. He wasn't much good at telling fibs anymore, so he improvised and settled for evasion instead. "Nothin' special. I'm jus' goin' ta fetch a few things from home a'fore goin' ta see Al."

"Mind if Blondie and I tag along?" Grell asked, "Given, you don't really have a choice in the matter. Same as Ronnie."

"Yeah, about that—can you set me down? Your shoulder is bony and digging into my gut!" Ron huffed.

Eric's lips thinned a bit. "Why do ya wanna come wi' me? I won't be gettin' tha' much."

He could see the sly look in Grell's eye as the redhead obligingly set Ronald back on his feet. He wasn't sure how since he'd said nothing, but he got the distinct feeling they knew what he was really up to...or at least suspected. Was he really that much of an open book, or had they all just known each other so long that his associates guessed what was on his mind after Jase and Chronus got taken away?

"We can be some extra hands to help out, Eric." Grell insisted, "Whatever it is, you can't do it on your own as quickly."

"No rule-enforcers, either." Ronald added, leaning against the wall of the lift as they ascended down to the main floor. "Think about it. A rowdy 'kid', a known serial killer, and a passionate rule bender…who could blame us for wanting to, oh, I don't know… do something crazy off the clock… like go out to a pub and get drunk, hit on the waitresses…or go crash some party in a realm that isn't ours and coax a few others into joining in on the real fun that comes with having Knox around." Ron smirked.

Eric sighed, but he smirked a little. "Ye cannae tell Alan abou' this. He doesnae need tha stress o' worryin' about me on top of everythin' else. Ya know we could get into serious trouble fer this, right?"

"You, maybe. But I'm engaged to the man doing the punishing. What'll he do? Kick me to the couch for a month?" Ron smirked.

"This is no where near as bad as the time I went on that lovely killing spree in mortal London with my darling Madam." Grell giggled, "I'll likely get put on probation again, no biggy."

The Scotsman relaxed, feeling better about what he intended to do now that he had the support of two of his colleagues. "I don' even know where they're bein' held, but I cannae jus' let this go. I don't suppose either of ya know yer way around lower Heaven, do ya?"

"You kidding? Of course not! Rhea forbid the feather-balls ever let a lowly reaper set foot beyond their borders." The blond shrugged.

"I actually do." Grell piped up, giggling at the astonished looks on both their faces as the doors opened and he lead the way out, "I dated an angel once, oh, about sixty or seventy years ago~ Snuck me up into Paradise a few times."

Eric's brows shot up. "Well good on ye, Grell. Tha' could make a world o' difference."

The elevator had made it to the parking garage floor, and Eric let the other two reapers go out first. "We'll take my car. I jus' want to stop by tha house ta pick up some things ta bring wi' us, jus' in case they prove useful. Alan had a book of sigils an' he was showin' Jase how ta use some of 'em against angels. I know balls abou' it meself, but if we can get to him, Jase might be able ta use 'em."

He clicked the remote locking mechanism on his keychain and a gold sedan beeped cheerfully as its alarm was disarmed. Eric opened the door for his companions, before climbing into the driver's seat himself. They were about to set foot in a forbidden realm and they'd be quite outnumbered, but all reapers had the ability to mask themselves from detection; even from demons or angels, to a certain extent.

"Now when we get there," he said to his companions, "Dinnae confront any angels until we must. We need tae try no' to alert 'em any sooner than we can help it."

"No promises." Grell sighed, strapping himself into the passenger seat.

"Grell…really. We can't afford to start a battle up there prematurely." Ron huffed from the back seat. "If possible, let's get in, grab the geezer and his doll, and get out without anyone seeing."

"They'll have Reaper traps and sigils everywhere, guys. They are holding Death himself, after all. They wouldn't want him escaping his cell via portal." Grell explained, "We would activate them just as well as he would. And if that happens, we have no choice."

"I...dinnae think o' tha'," admitted Eric with a sigh. "Guess tha' means tha cat'll be out of tha bag as soon as we reach tha holdin' area, but it cannae be helped. I'll no' let Jase's husband be sacrificed, if I can help it."

He pulled out of the garage and took a left on the street. "'Sides, Chronus is part o' reaper history an' tha old man's grown on me an' Alan. Wouldnae be right tae jus' let him take tha fall, when he's already done his time. We worked too hard tae give him a fair trial."

"Meh, they went easy on him." Grell shrugged, "But it's true. Shorty and Handsome don't deserve any of this. –Eric, Can't you drive faster? Honestly, Alan's driving habits have warn off on you. Faster we get to your place, the faster we can go knocking on Heaven's door."

The Scotsman smirked sidelong at Grell. "Tighten yer seatbelt."

Then he floored it—and consequently ran a light. He took a sharp turn down a back street to avoid attracting the attention of the authorities, and he laughed when Grell nearly fell into his lap. "Well, ya  _did_  ask me ta drive faster, Red."

He sped down to the next intersection and took another turn that plastered Grell against the opposite door before he could prepare for it. Ronald was having an easier time of it in the back seat, having grabbed hold of the back of Eric's seat for balance.

"Holy Fuck! And Will says I'm a reckless driver!" Ron gasped, hugging the seat in front of him for dear life.

"If you bruise my face, you are going to regret it!" Grell gasped when his face almost smacked into the window.

"Be more careful wha' ye ask for in tha future," advised Eric with a reckless grin. He hadn't cut loose like this behind the wheel for some time, and it made him miss the sporty little car he'd had before he began training Alan. He'd traded it in for the sedan after realizing that he couldn't help but speed when he drove it, and his driving absolutely terrified his partner, before he toned it down.

They arrived at his apartment building a couple of minutes later, and Eric decided to show off with one last maneuver that used to turn Alan white as a sheet. He switched gears, cut the wheel sharply and slid into a parallel parking spot just across the street.

"Here we are," he said breezily to his now shaking passengers. "Hope ye didn't piss yerselves." He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, and he went around to the other side to help Grell out next. "Yer a'right. Och...dinnae squeeze mah hand so bloody hard, Grell!"

"You're lucky I didn't bite!" Grell snapped.

"I gotta use the loo." Ron said, getting out on shaky legs.

"Ohh, baby Ronnie." Grell teased.

"Jus' hold it 'till we get inside," said Eric with a smirk as he locked up the car and jogged across the street. His companions already knew which townhouse was his and Alan's, so he went ahead to unlock the door. Grell and Ronald soon joined him, looking only faintly less like they'd both just gotten off a roller coaster.

"In ye go," urged the Scotsman when he opened the door.

Stepping inside, he spoke aloud to his companions as they came up behind him. "Sorry for tha mess. We left in a rush an' I haven't gotten 'round ta...cleaning...up."

He trailed off and stared with wide eyes at the spectacle before him as he walked into the living room. There on the couch was a rather haggard looking Undertaker, with an equally disheveled Jase. Eric blinked, stunned. Jase looked like he'd been through a war, and his youthful face was completely covered in drying blood. It was all down the front of his shirt too, and the material seemed a bit singed where the blood had splattered it. Undertaker wasn't quite as messy, but for some reason, his eyes were shut and he turned his head blindly at the sound of Eric's voice.

"Ah, welcome home, chap," greeted the mortician. "Sorry if we got a bit of yuck on your carpet; I can't really see what I'm doing right now, and Jase here's exhausted."

It was then that Eric realized the Undertaker's lids were sewn shut with golden thread. "Wha' in bloody hell  _happened_?" He rushed to their side, torn between horror at Undertaker's condition and concern for Jase's. "Jase, lad...is tha' yer blood?"

"…No…I don't want to talk about it…" Jase muttered, turning to hide his face in Undertaker's chest. "…Chronus needs a doctor, though…"

"Excuse me! Toilet!" Ron shouted, pushing past Grell to hurry to the bathroom.

"…Well, this has been the fastest search and rescue Heaven-style in the history of…ever." Grell said, walking into the room, "How on earth did you get out of there?"

"Would that be Miss Sutcliff?" Chronus turned his head toward the sound of Grell's voice with a grin. "Might my old ears be deceiving me? Did I just hear you say 'search and rescue'?"

"Tha' was tha plan," confessed Eric, still amazed. "We were comin' here tae get tha' book of glyphs Alan showed tae Jase, in case it could be useful. Didnae expect tae find ya both sittin' in tha living room. I'll echo Grell's question; how'd ye manage this?"

Undertaker pointed in his spouse's general direction. "He did it. I was well on my way to being crisped, when all the sudden Jase crashed their little party. I've never seen him so vicious...well...I didn't really  _see_  anything, but I heard and sensed it. Lil' fellow tore through their ranks like a hot knife through butter, and when we finished taking care of them, we decided to let ourselves out the door...er, so to speak. They had no warding in their crucifying chamber to inhibit teleportation."

The ancient shrugged. "I s'pose they figured they had me right where they wanted me. I'll give you chaps a gold star for trying, though."

Grell stared in awe at Jase, "Well, red looks good on you, shorty."

Jase scowled, "I'm not proud of what I did! I only did what I had to!"

Ron sighed, leaving the bathroom, "Okay, if you got the book, then lets head out ta—what the—How'd you get them out already? I wasn't peeing that long!"

"They didn't need our help. Got out on their own." Grell shrugged, walking over to Undertaker and bending over to look at his eyes, "Holy thread…can't simply snip that with scissors… Hey Ronnie, call the hospital and have them get ready for a soul-damaged stud. Jase, if you are sure you are unharmed, Eric can keep you here to wash up and then bring you to the hospital once you don't look like all the other Bizarre Dolls I have met."

"Capital idea," approved Chronus. He reached out for Jase's hand and accidentally grabbed his crotch instead, making the doll gasp. "Whoopsie...sorry love. At least this time I've got an honest reason for my aim being a bit off."

"Unbelievable," muttered Eric.

"Here now, that was an honest mistake...for once," defended the mortician.

"I meant about tha two of ya managing ta get ou' of there all on yer own," explained Eric.

"Oh."

Jase shook his head, "I'd rather Eric take Chronus to the hospital. "I can bathe myself…once I just rest a little more…" He took Chronus' hand.

"Don't trust the husband with Grell? Don't blame you. You might get him back all dressed up like a woman." Ronald snickered.

"No, that's special for you." Grell said, slapping Ronald's rear. "Fine, Eric take Unnie. Ronnie and I will stay here and help out Shorty."

Eric nodded and took Undertaker's hand to guide him. "Come on, old man. I know yer used ta no' relying on sight much, but yer best off no' lettin' those stitches set."

"Indeed," answered the mortician. "Jase, I'll see you soon...hopefully."

He paused with a slight frown on his face. "Don't I have a pair of glasses somewhere?"

Eric exchanged a frown with Grell. Ronald was busy on the phone and didn't notice the puzzling question. "No' fer some time, Chronus...at least, no' Shinigami glasses. Ye gave 'em up when ya retired from Dispatch."

Undertaker scratched his head. "I retired? When?"

Eric nearly cursed. "How much o' tha holy fire did they use on ya, a'fore ya escaped?"

The mortician shrugged. "Who knows? I recall shielding myself with my chill a couple of times and that kept a lot of it at bay, but..."

He trailed off in confusion, his head turning blindly in Eric's direction. "You're sure I defected, chap?"

"Aye," confirmed the Scotsman, faint alarm stirring in his breast. "Well o'er fifty years ago."

"My, my," mused the ancient, tapping his temple with a black nail. "I really have no memory of that. I thought...what have I been doing? I remember the dolls...and Jase, of course. I remember the trial, but you know, I can't recall why I was making those dolls."

"We can sort all tha' out later," insisted Eric, eager to have the man checked out by a physician. "Let's jus' get your eyes taken care of fer now, aye?"

"Right. Lead the way."

Eric guided the blinded mortician to the front door and he got the keys to his car ready. He looked back at Jase's concerned, bloodied face and he tried to offer him some comfort. "I'm sure they'll take good care o' him, lad. We'll see ya in a bit."

Jase nodded, "Take care of him for me until I can get there." He watched the two reapers disappear and Grell got up and walked back to run the bath.

"Cold water, right?" He called.

"Yes, please."

"You're too polite…it's annoying…" Grell mumbled, turning the water onto cold and letting the tub fill as he walked back out and scooped Jase up into his arms and carried him to the bath, dropping him in, clothes and all. "Ron! Come on and help. Blood takes a lot of work to get out of hair when it's this expansive."

"Why aren't I surprised that you know that?" the blond said, hanging up the phone and walking in to help the flushing Frenchman get cleaned.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	15. Chapter 15

William got the news from Eric as soon as the Scotsman got the Undertaker to the hospital. He rubbed his forehead as he felt another migraine coming on. Despite the pain of it, he was...relieved. His respect for Jase increased, and though he thought he couldn't possibly respect the Undertaker more than he already did, he found that increased as well. He started to leave his office with the intention of filing a report to the high council, but then he got a phone call from Holtz.

"Mr. Spears, I hear the Undertaker slipped his leash," said the mortician's former parole officer. "I do hope you intend to keep tabs on him."

William scowled subtly. "I assure you Mr. Holtz, I am perfectly aware of Chronus' location and have no intention of slacking off on my duties as his probation officer. His status is no longer your concern. Good day to you."

He hung up on the annoying man before Holtz could respond, and he called up his superiors to inform them that the angels no longer had a claim on Dispatch's living legend or his spouse.

* * *

 

"Ouch. That rather stings."

"My apologies, Undertaker," said the doctor as he tugged free the second of six stitches binding the ancient's left eye shut. "This takes special instruments to ensure your eyes won't be damaged during the extraction of these sutures. I will try to get them removed as quickly as possible and spare you some discomfort."

A wisp of smoke curled up from the lid where the stitch came free and Eric winced in sympathy. "Sadistic bastards. Wha' the hell was tha purpose o' sewin' his eyes shut like tha'?"

"Probably so I couldn't corrupt them with my gaze," snickered the Undertaker. "Ouch."

"I've met demons wi' less animosity," grumbled the Scotsman.

"It'll be fine, chap." Undertaker lay passively on the table under the surgical lamp, holding perfectly still for the physician despite the pain. "Why don't you go and check on your husband, hmm? Give him my regards. Seems I might be here for a while, yet."

Eric hesitated. He didn't want to leave Chronus alone, but he was worried about Alan. "I could stay at least 'till Jase gets here," he offered.

"I appreciate the company, but there's little you can do except cheer me on," insisted Chronus. "I'm sure my little darlin' will be along shortly. Go on, I'll be fine."

Eric shrugged. It wasn't like the angels were likely to break into the hospital and nab the man. They'd have to be the ones to break the treaty by trespassing for that, and though he and his associates had been prepared to do the same themselves, it had fortunately never come to that.

"Have 'em call my number if ya need anything, then." He got out of the chair and left the room to go and visit Alan.

Alan lay in his hospital bed, looking just as pale as he had the night before. Weak and frail, the brunet didn't seem to be getting better as he normally did. Usually he started looking better after a day in the hospital, but there appeared to be no change in his condition. A mask to help him breathe was strapped over his mouth and nose, monitors tracking his heart and vitals—it was a frightening sight to his husband.

Yet, as Alan turned his head, he gave a weak smile, "Good afternoon, Eric…"

Eric forced a smile for his love and he went to his side to take one of his hands. He scooted the stool over and sat down, before lifting his hand to his lips and kissing the top of it. "Hey Al. Sorry I didnae come sooner. I was on tha verge o' doin' somethin' stupid again."

He looked at the vitals monitor with a frown. He didn't need to ask his husband to explain things; he'd run into Alan's specialist on his way to his room and discussed the situation with him briefly...and he could sense it, as well. His love was dying. His condition was steadily deteriorating now and this time, it wasn't likely to improve. He took a shuddering breath and he tried to control his emotions. Alan didn't need him to break down on him right now.

"You're always on the verge of doing something stupid…" Alan gave a weak chuckle, "William hinted at what you were up to…did it work? I didn't expect to see you this afternoon…or all night…" His voice was slightly muffled by the mask, and he spoke slowly in a calm tone, which he usually used when he wasn't feeling all that great.

Eric squeezed his hand again. "Turns out I didnae have ta do a thing, sweetheart. I had backup and jus' when we were ready ta get some things from tha flat an' getter done, Chronus an' Jase showed up. Somehow they managed ta escape together an' make it back ta our home. I'm still no' filled in on tha details, but I needed ta come an' see ye. Chronus is in tha hospital now. Seems tha angels sewed his eyes shut wi' some sort o' holy thread. Jase is gettin' cleaned up a'fore he comes ta be wi' him an' see you."

Eric chuckled at the memory of Grell and Ronald's reaction to his driving on the way to the townhouse. "I think I scared a good century off Grell an' nearly made Ronnie shit his pants on tha way home from Dispatch. Got inta my ol' driving habits."

The brunet frowned, "Don't you be getting back into old driving habits! I worry about you when you drive like that—so reckless." He took Eric's hand and pressed it to his cheek as he couldn't kiss his fingers, "But I'm glad Jase and Chronus are safe, and I'm proud of you for trying to help them."

The Scotsman smiled and nodded. "How could I not? I knew if ya were able to, ye'd want ta help too. I couldnae let anything happen ta Jase. Couldnae let it happen ta Undertaker, either."

Eric lowered his gaze. "Alan…I…" he trailed off, not knowing what else to say. How could he go on speaking about it when it hurt so much? "…I love yeh," he finally finished, caressing his masked face.

Alan's gaze softened, "I love you too—more than anything." The brunet put on a brave face as he always did, but inside he was scared. And he knew Eric could feel his fear. This attack hadn't been the same as the others. There was a low chance of him recovering and he didn't need the doctor telling him that was the case. And he had things he had to tell Eric before it was too late, but he couldn't bring himself to bringing it up. He didn't think he could keep his tears at bay if he did.

Eric swallowed and nodded, knowing it was true. He couldn't hold his spouse as he wished to, but he scooted closer to the bed and bent over to lay his head on his shoulder gently. He kept hold of his hand and he couldn't stop the tears from coming as he whispered a reminder to him.

"I'm wi' ya 'till the end, Alan. And…forever beyond tha'."

"We belong together, sweetheart...in life, an' in…" Alan swallowed, "…in death…" he repeated his lover's own words when he had asked Alan to take the vow with him. He felt a lump form in his throat, "…I wish the life part would last longer…"

Eric's shoulders tensed with his efforts to suppress his tears. He could feel the life ebbing away from his soul mate, and he was powerless to stop it.

* * *

 

Even through his discomfort, Undertaker could sense the approach of his husband. He resisted the urge to squirm impatiently as the doctor removed the last of the stitches. "Jase?"

"Chronus!" Jase rushed from Grell and Ronald's side when he saw his husband. Reaching his side, the doll took Undertaker's hand in his, kissing his knuckles, "How are you feeling? Are your eyes alright? They weren't damaged, were they? How's your memories?" he paused, seeing the teeth marks on Undertaker's hand near his thumb, and he frowned, "I'm sorry I bit you…does it hurt?"

"Sheesh, slow down on your worrying. Our doctors know what they are doing much better than the modern human doctors you may be used to." Grell said from the doorway.

"He did slow down—at least enough to get dressed before we left the house." Ronald snickered, "Almost came here naked after we got him out of his ruined jammies."

"Now that's a sight I'd like to see," chuckled the mortician. "Well, once I can open my eyes again. I'm fine, Jase. Some memories are a bit fuzzy, but I think I retained the most important ones."

"Just one moment longer," said the doctor. He pulled the last stitch out and he pressed down on Chronus' shoulder when the ancient tried to rise. "Not yet! I still need to flush them and apply the ointment, sir."

Undertaker sighed and squeezed Jase's small hand reassuringly. "How are  _you_  feeling, my dear? A bit better now that you're clean?"

Jase nodded, "A little queasy when I think about what I did…but…I'm fine…no scratches or anything. –Stop making this about me! You were the one being tortured!" the doll insisted.

Chronus sobered a little, but his smile remained. "And you saved me, didn't you? I'm old and old men are wont to have bad memories anyhow. I don't think I lost anything I'll miss, and my peepers will be…ouch…fine…when they've finished…aahh! Here now, go easy on 'em!"

"I'm so sorry, Legendary Death, but you keep squirming!" excused the doctor. "Now…please  _carefully and slowly_  open your eyes so that I can flush them out." The doctor dimmed the light and waited.

With another sigh, the ancient did as instructed, grimacing as his reddened eyes opened and the pupils expanded. They immediately teared up and he hissed. "Goodness…this must be what my darling dollie feels like when looking into bright light. Hurry it up, chap…I don't know how long I can keep them open. This bloody stings!"

The doctor hastened to flush them out with the special solution and he wiped up the blend of the medicated wash, blood and tears with gauze. He applied drops next and then he instructed Undertaker to close his eyes again.

"The healing ointment comes next, sir," explained the doctor. "It will help to close the wounds from the stitches. Now, you'll need to apply these drops and the ointment twice per day until both are gone, and you may experience some blindness for a time."

"Lovely," said Chronus dryly. He squeezed Jase's hand again. "Seems you get to nurse me for a bit, pet."

Jase kissed his husband's forehead, "I'll be doing more that that, I'm sure." He whispered, "…Would you like to borrow one of my blindfolds to help filter the light?" he offered, slipping up onto the bed next to his love and hugging him, "It may help."

"Blindness? You are taking the news much better than I would have!" Grell said.

"I think a blindfold might be nice," agreed Chronus. He smirked in Grell's direction. "And Miss Sutcliff, blindness isn't such an issue for me. I haven't relied on my eyesight for quite some time."

He reached out carefully for Jase and caressed his face. "The only thing I want to look at is you. That'd be the only sight I think these old eyes of mine would truly miss…gazing on my darling little Frenchman."

"Not much to look at—he's so tiny one could not even notice he's in the room or can misplace him among a herd of children. –OW! Ronnie!"

Ronald had elbowed the redhead hard in the side to shut him up. And he just smirked, walking into the room.

"And on the bright side, he won't have to see your over-demanding presence." Jase shot back.

"Why in  _Styx_  did I want to help save that brat!" Grell growled, turning and leaving, his heels clicking loudly down the hall.

Chronus snickered with amusement, sensing his mate's annoyance. "Don't think he means us any harm anymore, Jase. It sounds like he was all set to come to our rescue, and beggars really can't afford to be choosers, after all. If it weren't for your lovely resourcefulness, we might have had to rely on Miss Sutcliff's help."

He stopped and thought of that, wondering why he'd ever been mad at the crimson reaper to begin with. "Darlin', did Grell…do something? I can't seem to recall."

"You don't recall how he threatened Jase when we arrested you? And then how he testified mostly against you at your trial?" Ronald asked with a frown.

"His soul was damaged by Holy Fire, Mister Knox. Which means his cinematic records were damaged—and with it, memories." The doctor stated, "His soul will heal, but it will be scarred. The damaged memories may remain difficult for him to recall."

"That sucks… Well, Jase here took an immediate dislike and distrust of Grell-senpai. –Grell's not particularly fond of him, either…I think he's a bit jealous that you aren't available anymore or something." Ron shrugged. "He doesn't always take rejection well."

"Oh." Undertaker's brow crinkled in confusion as he tried to recall the events leading up to where he was now. The only memories that were clear to him were the ones involving him and Jase directly. For that matter, he wondered why people kept referring to him as 'legendary', but he kept that concern to himself. "Well, it's in the past. Grell's no threat to my love for you, Jase, and he  _was_  part of the rescue team. What I'd really like right now is to go home...but that's been burnt away, hasn't it?"

The doll have a small nod, "We are staying with Eric and Alan currently…until we have a chance to rebuild when we know it's safe to return to France outside of the reaper realm." He said a bit sadly, "Faith should be safe still, but we'll have to start over on our home."

"Ah, I do seem to recall some of that," sighed Chronus. He drew Jase close and nuzzled his hair. "As long as I've got you safe and sound, m'dear."

He turned his head in the general direction where he'd heard Ronald's voice come from. "Mr. Knox, thanks for your help. Does my heart good to know some of the younger generation still have some integrity. I'd thank Miss Sutcliff too, but it sounded like she stomped off."

He still couldn't decide whether to use male or female pronouns with Grell, but he supposed it didn't really matter now. He did recall that Alan Humphries had an attack just before he went to the council meeting. "How's Alan doing, love? Had a chance to see the chap yet?" He asked Jase.

"No," Jase shook his head, "I came to check on you, first. Alan is very dear to me, but I was a little more worried about you—you were in such bad shape from what the angels did to you. I'll go visit him later. Eric's with him right now, anyway."

"Yeah, let the lovebirds have some time together." Ronald agreed, "Of course, I could leave you two love birds alone, too. Go off to find my own bird… I'm sure he'd like an update on everyone's status."

"Right-o," agreed the mortician. "As for myself, I think I'd like one of those blindfolds. Even with my eyes shut, the light's a bit too much. Sorry I never realized, darlin'." The last was directed at Jase.

"I…only have the one with me." Jase apologized, "If it really bother's you I'll let you use it, if not you'll have to wait until we get back to Alan's house. I didn't know you're eyes would be sensitive to light, otherwise I would have grabbed my other one."

"I'll get by," said the mortician with a shrug. "I'd rather not take yours from you, now that I know how awful this bloody light sensitivity is."

"We can fix that for you," assured the doctor upon returning to the room and hearing the end of the conversation. "For now, we'll put pads over your eyes and wrap it with gauze. Can you please sit up so that I can see to that, sir?"

Chronus obliged him and sat up with Jase's help. "And here I was hoping I'd make it out of here without looking like a head-trauma patient," he joked.

* * *

 

William looked up as Ronald walked into his office. He couldn't quite disguise the relief on his aristocratic features at the sight of his betrothed unharmed, and he stood up and circled around his desk to meet him.

"Slingby informed me of the news," he said, slipping his arms around the younger reaper's waist as they met halfway. "I must confess that I am glad you did not find a need to resort to whatever wild plan he was conjuring."

He spared a moment to stroke Ronald's bangs out of his eyes in a quiet gesture of affection. "It was...very difficult...to let you go and not be at your side."

"We woulda been fine, Will. Grell's been to Heaven before and knows his way around up there a fair bit. And Eric was going to take Jase Alan's book of sigils to use. It was a rather solid plan for three guys storming the pearly gates." He chuckled, "And if you knew we never had to go up there, why do you look so relieved? I didn't get the chance to get myself into danger!"

Ronald grinned and popped up onto his toes to kiss his future husband, "The old kook had part of his soul burned away already. His memory is a little patchy. And his eyes are damaged and healing. But Jase saved him. Jase himself was exhausted and looked like the aftermath of one of Grell's temper tantrums. But he was unharmed… And you know, hanging around all them vowed lovebirds only make me all the more eager for us taking ours."

William allowed himself a small, subtle smile. "As soon as we deal with this madness and can finally arrange for some time off, I promise. I refuse to have a hasty honeymoon. I intend to do this right."

He lowered his head to Ronald's and he claimed his lips, holding him tighter against him. It was always so easy to let the world and its troubles slip away when he was in this impetuous young reaper's arms.

Ronald chuckled into the kiss, pressing up against William and, feeling a bit mischievous, he slid his hands up along Will's neck and into his perfectly slicked hair, ruffling it loose and messy as he coaxed Will's tongue into his mouth to suck on and keep him there while he messed the hair.

"Little terror," mumbled William against Ronald's lips in protest, but he didn't lift a finger to stop him. He was used to Ronald pulling little stunts like this. Instead of attempting to smooth his hair back into place, he settled for a sharp little smack to Ronald's bum.

With a sharp gasp, Ronald's eyes snapped open, "W-Will, you are starting something you won't find easy to back out of." He warned with a husky whisper, pressing his suddenly hardened groin up against Will's thigh. "Do it harder." He smirked.

"Honestly?" William smirked and slapped his bum harder. "Why, you little slut."

"Mmh…maybe…but I'm your little slut." The blond hummed, his eyes half-lidded, "You best put me in my place~" he winked.

William's eyes flashed, and that familiar feeling of uncontrollable lust reared its head. He gestured at his desk, his eyes pinning Ronald's. "I think perhaps I should. Drop your pants, little slut, so that I can discipline you properly."

Ronald pulled away, his hands shooting down to his iconic white belt and quickly undoing it, pulling it loose and off. He then hooked it around Will's neck to pull him into a brief kiss before turning and walking to the disk, clearing a spot and sitting on it as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants and boxers, leaving him bare from the waist down. Turning, he bent over the desk and spread his legs, looking back over his shoulder with a cocky grin, "Like this, sir?"

William was surprised his erection didn't rip right through his trousers. He approached the poised blond, coming up behind him with slow, deliberate intent. He ran one gloved hand over his arching back, then back up. He gripped the back of Ronald's neck and he forced his head down firmly, breath quickening with excitement. How this young reaper make him lose all sense of decency and control was beyond him, but he was too randy to care now.

"Be still," he commanded, and he slid his other hand over the bare curve of Ronald's tight little bottom. He bent over the prone form of his lover to speak into his ear, finding it much easier to fall into this kinky role now that his desire had been so thoroughly stirred.

"Do you want to get back on my good side?"

He paused his hand over the left cheek, and then he gave it a good, firm slap.

The crack made Ronald shiver as he gripped the edges of the desk, gasping as goose bumps formed on his arms. His eyes moved to look out the corner at William, "Who says I'm doing this to get on your good side, sir?"

William smirked. "So you enjoy punishment, do you?" He smacked the other cheek, and he found himself fascinated by the blush of his handprint that arose—and the matching blush on Ronald's cheeks. Styx, the boy would be lucky if he didn't pound him straight through to the bottom floor of the building after play like this.

"I dislike intransigence, you know," he murmured. He reached around Ronald's hips with one hand to fondle his swollen girth as he delivered another firm smack—this one falling on the right cheek again. "How much will you misbehave, my pretty little slut?"

"Mmm, are you challenging me to show you how bad I can be?" Ronald smirked, rubbing his rear up and down Will's leg.

William's lust was ready to explode. He started to reach for the lube he kept in his pocket, and he breathed a soft promise in Ronald's ear.

"I plan to ravish you."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	16. Chapter 16

A week dragged by slower than anyone would have imagined. After three days, the hospital finally released Alan from their care, but under the condition that he stay on strict bed rest at home and didn't go in to work. His condition was gradually growing weaker and the stress and strain that work put on his mind and body would only drain his life force faster. As a result, the master bedroom had been turned into a home infirmary. Equipment was moved in to monitor his condition and once a day a nurse would visit to check on him. He was also given an emergency phone to connect him to the hospital should something happen.

He felt better being at home with Eric rather than the cold, sterile hospital room. It'd make his final days more comfortable.

Or weeks…or even months. They didn't have a very good guess on how long he'd hang onto life. He suffered a few smaller attacks nearly every day, but it was the next big one that everyone feared. The one they all knew would be his last.

It was hard to watch…the lively little brunet slipping further into his illness. Jase helped as much as he could, watching over Alan when Eric had to go to work. Of course, he also had his own husband to look after as well.

Undertaker had not only suffered memory loss from the holy fire that had burnt his soul, but also brought about a bit of madness as a side-affect. His sense of time had been screwed up. One minute he'd be sitting happily at afternoon tea with Jase and Alan, entertaining them with jokes he found laugh-worthy, and the next he'd be on his feet, ranting about being late for work at dispatch and having too many souls to collect to be wasting time with tea and jokes. Or he'd be thinking he had to meet with the Viscount to discuss the 'next batch of bizarre dolls'.

Needless to say, he kept Jase busy with caring for him.

On top of his skewed sense of time, Undertaker's eyes were healing slowly and he was still blind, only able to see light and shadow. As a result, at night when everything was shadow, he'd often crash into things on his way to the toilet or to get a glass of water.

Jase sighed, carrying a tray of food into the master bedroom with dinner for both his patients. Eric was due home at any minute, and they had plans to go to speak with the angel they were still holding hostage in the Reaper prison. He had requested to be there when they negotiated the terms of his release, in hopes to get Heaven to give up on pursuit of both Chronus and himself.

"Dinner. It's not anything fancy, I'm sorry." He said with a smile when he entered the room where his husband and Alan were sitting. Alan trying to read a book, and Undertaker entertaining himself with a pen and pad of paper. Jase didn't know what he was doing without being able to see, but he didn't question it.

Undertaker poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he finished his drawing, and he cackled in triumph.

"Look, it's us!"

The nearly blind reaper displayed a rather horrible stick-person drawing of himself and Jase holding hands...or else they were stabbing one another. It was rather hard to tell. Chronus was nonetheless seeming very pleased with himself.

Jase chuckled, "I like how you made me taller by having my head float above my body rather than stay attached." He set the tray down and passed Alan his meal before telling Undertaker where his food was. "Mashed potatoes are at twelve o'clock, green beans are at three o'clock, your ham is already cut up for you at nine o'clock, and you have two cookies down at six o'clock." He explained, taking Undertaker's hand and guiding it over to where his drink was sitting, "And this is where your drink is."

"Ah, thank you." Undertaker captured one of his hands and he kissed it. "You're a patient lil' darlin'. It won't be like this forever...promise."

"I know." Jase smiled, leaning in and kissing each of his lover's eyelids, "What's a few weeks when we have an eternity? –Hopefully."

Alan slipped a bookmark into his book and set it aside to start eating, "This is very good, thank you, Jase." He said with a small smile.

"It's mostly leftovers from last night." Jase laughed, settling down on the bed next to Chronus, "Eric should be back soon…Chronus, do you want to go with me when I go down to speak with the angel that traded himself over to reaper authorities in exchange for ensuring our return? William Spears said we can attend if we wish and I would like to."

Undertaker swallowed a bite of mashed potatoes and he nodded. "I'll come with. Of all those feathered terrors, he seemed to be the only one worth two pence. Think I'd like to thank that fellow for sticking his neck out that way."

"He was the only one that seemed to want to help. It's thanks to him that they allowed me my canteen and dimmed the lights in the cell." The doll nodded, sneaking a bite of ham off his lover's plate. He couldn't taste it, but he had the urge to do so.

"Jase...what time is it?" Undertaker paused in the act of trying to feed Alan a bite from his plate, a puzzled frown curving his pale lips.

"It's supper." Jase reminded gently.

Alan sighed, taking a napkin and cleaning the potato from his cheek from Undertaker's attempts at feeding him like a child, "Chronus, I'm not an infant, I can feed myself."

Undertaker dropped his spoon on Alan's chest. "Suppertime? Oh my...how could I have...I've spent the entire day in bed when I ought to be on the clock!"

The mortician set his plate on the edge of the bedside table and started to get up, muttering absently to himself in alarm. "I'll be canned for sure if I keep goofing off."

"Chronus!" Jase moved to block him, placing his hands on his lover's chest, "You don't have work today—you're retired, remember? You aren't late for anything, love."

"You were keeping me company, remember?" Alan smiled, cleaning himself up.

It was then that Eric came through the door, and when he overheard the conversation he joined them in the bedroom. "Wha's goin' on?"

"I...I'm retired?" Undertaker frowned in confusion at his mate. "But I could have sworn I just went to work yesterday!"

Understanding the problem, Eric circled around behind Jase and laid a comforting hand on Undertaker's shoulder. "Yer memory's still damaged, Chronus. Ye havnae been tae work in o'er fifty years. We talked abou' this last night."

"Chronus?" Repeated the mortician, his face scrunching up. "I'm Death. That name...oh, wait."

He looked down at Jase again, and the memory of how he'd come by the new name came back to him. "You named me Chronus, didn't you? I asked you to give me a new name and that was the one you picked."

Jase frowned and nodded, "Yes, Chronus is your name now." He cupped Chronus' cheek, "My Chronus Undertaker." His cheeks heated at his next statement, but he knew it would help more than just telling him the basics, "Remember how you make me cry out your name in bed? On that stormy night when we first lay together?"

"Uh...er..." Eric flushed as well, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. His paternal instincts toward Jase sometimes made him forget that the lad was full-grown and had the same sexual needs as himself. "'Scuse me...I'll jus' go have mah supper now. Al...I'll come back in ta visit wi' yeh afterwards."

In a bit of a hurry to escape the room before Undertaker could answer and further put unwanted images in his head, the Scotsman beat a hasty retreat without looking back.

Undertaker hardly noticed Eric's words or retreat. Jase's words brought him back to the time when they first lay together in the gypsy wagon, and he smiled. "Oh yes...I do recall that. I've a certain special fondness of that memory, in fact."

He put his arms around the doll and drew him close, sighing as he stroked Jase's thick, brown ponytail. "I'm so sorry, my dear. I did my best to protect those memories, but sometimes...I suppose I just need a nip of a reminder."

He shook his bangs away from his eyes—which were still covered by one of Jase's lacy blindfolds. It frustrated him that he couldn't gaze upon the doll's beloved face, and he cupped his chin and bent over to place a tender kiss on his lips. This time his aim was true and he didn't end up sucking on his nose.

"Love you, precious."

"I love you…and I'll remind you as many times as it takes. The doctor said your memory should get better over time, so don't give up." Blushing harder, he leaned in closer, whispering in his ear, "And if you need help with remembering your name, I'll remind you over and over again in private."

Alan sighed, "Why did Eric leave me alone in here with you two?"

Chronus snickered softly and turned his head toward the ailing reaper. "Sorry, chap. I know it's like hearing your child talking smut to the two of you, but just remember we're married. That ought to make both you and your hilarious Scotsman feel a might bit better, eh?"

He leaned in to whisper back to his spouse. "And I look forward to getting those private reminders, darlin'."

He winked out of habit beneath the blindfold, forgetting it was lost to Jase. He straightened up, and he somehow resisted the urge to give Jase's cute little bottom a fond pat. "Alan, m'boy, I think now that your hubby's home, Jase and I should probably get ready to leave and see off our angelic friend. Could we get anything for you while we're out?"

"No, I'll be fine just having time alone with Eric, thank you." Alan smiled, "Don't worry about me and send Eric in here, please."

Jase nodded, taking Undertaker's hand, "We'll see you later tonight." He said as they walked out of the room, calling to Eric that they were leaving as they left.

* * *

 

"I think you might have traumatized Eric a li'l with your pillow-talk, love," muttered Chronus as they arrived at the council building and got out of the cab. "I wish I could have seen the look on his face, though."

He snickered, putting his floppy sleeve over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Jase flushed again, "I didn't mean to make him or Alan uncomfortable…But it helped bring you back to the present." He hurried forward and opened the door, guiding his husband into the courthouse where they would meet with the angel prisoner and a few reaper officials. "This way." He said, directing the reaper down a hall.

"Thanks, my dear."

Undertaker followed gamely, and the two of them eventually made it into the court room. He couldn't see what was going on around him, but he could hear the whispers of intrigue as soon as they walked in and even through his blindfold, he could see the light shining from the angel standing in the center of the room. On impulse, he twiddled his fingers in greeting at Uriel before allowing his spouse to guide him to a seat.

"The case of the archangel Uriel will begin in five minutes," announced the hosting Shinigami judge.

More bodies of light came in, and Undertaker guessed they were other angels, there to witness and negotiate. He accidentally bumped William as he took his seat, and he muttered an apology without even knowing whom he'd jostled.

"Quite all right, sir," assured Spears, tucking his legs in closer to the chair to give the mortician greater room between the isles. Beside him was Ronald, and on the blond's other side was Grell Sutcliff.

Jase guided Undertaker into the seat next to Ronald, and then sat down on his other side, mostly so he could keep himself between the group of angels and his lover. He didn't quite trust them and Undertaker had been hurt enough by the so-called 'bringers of good and joy'.

The courtroom was abuzz with casual chat, and Jase glanced at Chronus, "Chronus…would you want to return to working at dispatch if you could?" He asked out of pure curiosity for how Undertaker acted when he thought he needed to go to work.

The ancient considered the question. "I'm really not sure. I've helped them out in the past after my retirement, when they were so swamped they needed a hand...but that was long before I began creating my dollies. Sometimes I think it might be nice to try it out again, but in doing so I'd be working some rather long hours."

He squeezed Jase's hand and leaned closer to him. "And that would mean time apart from you, my dear. I don't think I'm ready for that, after what we've been through. Besides, even when my vision returns, my memories are going to be buggered for a while...maybe forever. I'm already a loony old bat as it is. Might not be stable enough to don the glasses again, even if I wanted to."

William overheard enough of the conversation to feel a hint of excitement. Even though Chronus hadn't said he'd actually consider it, he didn't seem entirely opposed to the idea. He made a mental note to approach him for a discussion about it later—if not after negotiations with the angels, then perhaps at their next probation meeting.

Jase gave a small nod, "You just seemed excited sometimes when you think you are late for work. I wouldn't mind if you chose to go back, though, if it makes you happy." Leaning over, he popped up to plant a small kiss to his husband's cheek as the judge stood up and hushed the courtroom so that the negotiations could begin.

Grell squirmed in his seat, "Finally! This thing was supposed to start five minutes ago!"

"Senpai, shh!" Ronald hushed.

"Let negotiation proceedings begin," said the council judge, and he began to read out the Shinigami demands to the angelic gathering and the witnesses. "It is hereby declared that we, the Shinigami high council, shall see fit to release the archangel Uriel from our custody under the following conditions. First, the angels must cease all hostilities against Chronus Undertaker-Legendary Death—"

"My, that was a mouthful," remarked Undertaker without thinking. The warning look from the judge was lost on him, so William politely shushed the elder.

"As I was saying; all hostilities against him, his spouse Jase Dubois and the mortal realm must cease. Should it be ordered by Divine decree that humans be culled for whatever  _unrelated_  reason, we the Shinigami society will not interfere; but any future incidents provoked by aggression towards Legendary Death or his spouse."

He lowered the written agreement and he looked at the gathered angels, a hint of aggression in his eyes. It was clear the man was highly insulted by what they had done. "These terms are non-negotiable. Should you wish to present additional terms of your own to add to this, our council will discuss them with you—provided they do not contradict our own terms."

One of the angels stood up, an air of superiority about her, "Understand that we cannot leave our fires at the use of Death's spouse. Such gifts are for our kind only. We cannot risk him learning to use it as we can, not to mention, as he is not built to hold such a power, it will eventually burn him up. We will abandon the idea of purification on the both of them should we be able to address this issue."

"It is our understanding that Mr. Dubois only possesses that fire because your kind put it in him," countered one of the Shinigami councilmen. "Master Chronus' procedure to alter him—which he has already made restitution for—stopped your holy fire from burning up his soul. The two of them seem to have managed to prevent the fate you claim is in store for him, so far."

"There is another way," said Uriel suddenly, his violet eyes falling upon Jase solemnly from his place on the guarded podium. "Or at least, a chance of one. The divine flame may not need to be extracted from Mr. Dubois at all, if he can be capable of learning to master it."

The judge looked at the golden-winged archangel curiously, and one of the other archangels present shook his head. "Uriel, with all due respect, mortals aren't meant to wield such a power."

Uriel looked at him and raised an ironic brow. "Have you forgotten some of the saints, my friend? Certain mortals have been chosen in the past to be gifted with powers of Heaven. Jase is no longer mortal, for that matter, and he was once a man of the cloth. He has a kind, generous soul. He hungers not for power, but to help others. Who better to have such a gift?"

"He severely wounded some of our brethren—" started another angel, but Undertaker interrupted him.

"—While trying to save me, his husband. If you folks hadn't decided to crochet my eyelids and try to barbeque my soul, that mightn't have happened at all."

Jase sank in his seat, a frown tugging on his lips, "I only did what I felt I had to—to save him. It was unfair of you to try and steal him away like that so soon. It was the first time I have willingly attacked anyone. I am guilty of harming those angels, but I did not want to, nor do I wish to harm anyone again."

"You ripped a wing right off one of our kin's back with your teeth." The angel accused, pointing at the doll, "You went too far on your actions."

"With all due respect; you do not know what the madness of a Bizarre Doll's bloodlust is like." Jase stated, straightening up, "I fear it myself—which is why I had asked my husband to make sure I can not unknowingly fall into it. But I had to let myself do so up in Heaven as I can not bring myself to harm anyone while in my right mind. Once I did so, I was only partially aware of my actions—I even bit Chronus before I managed to pull myself back."

"And you reapers allow such a dangerous thing to exist?" the angel asked the judge.

"Hey!" Ronald stood up, "Jase is harmless as long as he has the old kook with him when he's around the corrupted human souls that trigger his Doll madness-mind-thing! This thing was discussed during Undertaker's trial!

William supported his fiancé's remark. "This has all been discussed before, and Mr. Dubois has not harmed another living soul before you miscreants attempted to destroy his spouse—and  _our_  elder. I never thought I would see the day when angels could sink so low. You capitalized on your own arrogance and human weakness; a thing which makes you little better than the demons you so detest. If we Shinigami were to attempt to give the same fate you intended for Legendary Death to Uriel, I doubt you would be as diplomatic as we were."

"I'm the only one of the two of us that actually killed any of you," reminded Chronus with a grin. "Jase only did as much damage as he needed to in order to free me...and  _he_  had the excuse of being mad on doll instincts."

Jase snapped his gaze over at his husband, "You  _killed_ one of them?" He hadn't realized his husband had gone that far—especially as he had been blind. But maybe it had been because he was blind? An accident?

"Self-defense, love," excused the mortician. "He provoked me."

"Order!" called the judge when the angels began to sputter angrily and the reapers began to insult them for even daring to try and purify one of their own. "We will have  _order_  in this chamber!"

When the noise died down and everyone reluctantly got back into their seats, the judge looked at the gathering with a stern frown. "I think a recess is in order. The angels may discuss our proposal and Uriel's idea. An accord must be reached, if the treaty is to remain intact between our realms. I will grant ten minutes. We shall leave the angels to have their council and return in the allotted time period."

Jase sighed, relaxing a little when recess was called, and he turned to look at his husband, "You should apologize for it. I know we were in an uncontrollable situation, but it may help calm them."

"I think I've made enough apologies for my actions already," muttered the mortician, "and like you, I was just acting to keep us both alive. Pity the fellow didn't move his head out of the way in time, but he and his fellows were trying to wipe me from existence and do something to you that could very well kill you. In fact, I'm really not on board with the thought of those featherbrains trying to draw that fire from you, if it can be avoided."

"I'm not either…its part of me, now…I don't think it'd be healthy for me to have it removed—as nice as not overheating all the time would be. And maybe being able to feel temperature more so I don't hurt myself unknowingly on some chores." Jase sighed and rested his head against Undertaker's arm, "I just want them to agree to the terms so that Uriel's life isn't also lost over this. There already have been too many deaths."

Undertaker put an arm around him as the angels filed out of the room, into the jury room to discuss the matter in private. The bailiff closed the door behind them and stood guard at it.

Speaking softly to his spouse, Chronus tried to reassure him. "I'll try to express some regret over how things ended up, but regardless of what the angels decide, Dispatch won't let them lay a single feather on you...and neither will I. I doubt that chap Uriel would stand for it either."

He smiled, his mind wandering once again. "Then when I get home from work tomorrow, we can bake cookies."

William glanced over at the mortician, blinking slightly at his abrupt change of subject, and he nudged Ronald to silence when the blond appeared ready to say something in response to that.

"Chronus—you are retired, remember?" Jase reminded gently—again for the fifth time that day, "We can bake cookies in the morning if you want."

Ronald frowned and leaned over to William, "Is it just me, or is he loonier than normal?"

William nodded and spoke very quietly into his ear in return. "His memory has been damaged...parts of it burned away. Hopefully it will heal in time."

Undertaker, meanwhile, realized that he'd just done it again, and he deflated. "Oh. Right. I keep doing that, don't I? So sorry, m'dear."

"It's alright." Jase pulled him into a kiss, "It's not your fault, and I'll keep reminding you." He gave him a hopeful smile.

The mortician sighed and squeezed him gently. "Such a sweet, patient thing you are. If only for your sake, I hope I regain some of my wits again soon—what there was of them to be had, anyway."

The bailiff announced the time and he opened the door to inform the angelic guests that the recess was over with. Uriel came out first, and he took his place again on the podium. The others returned to the chamber with fierce expressions on their bright faces, but Uriel himself seemed very calm and serene.

"What is your decision?" prompted the Shinigami judge when they all took their places again.

The angel who had spoken before stood up, "After some rather heated discussions with Archangel Uriel, We have agreed to consent to your terms for his release—under our own terms that the aboma—" she cut himself off when he saw Uriel glare at him, "—Mister Dubois agrees to a special lessons given by Uriel on proper use of the Holy Fire inside him. We promise not to try to extract it from him if he can learn to use it and he only uses it for the greater good."

"Hmph, they're ones to lecture on the 'greater good'," mumbled Undertaker under his breath, but he was smiling with relief.

The judge nodded in satisfaction. "Then Uriel is free to leave our custody and begin his tutoring of Mr. Dubois. No Shinigami will hinder him when he is ready to return home to his own realm. This meeting is now adjourned."

William smirked slightly, and he leaned forward to offer soft congratulations to the couple. Uriel watched his brethren leave in flashes of light, and he waited for the room to clear a bit to approach Undertaker and Jase. He touched his forehead and dipped his wings forward a bit in greeting.

"I am pleased with this outcome. I sincerely hope you both are as well, and I apologize on behalf of my brethren for the wrongs done to you."

"Thank you for helping us regain the freedom to return and rebuild our home." Jase nodded, linking his arm through Undertaker's, "What sort of lessons will I be taking from you? And—can Chronus be with me?"

"During the containment exercises, certainly," answered the angel. "However, there are other things I may be able to teach you to do that we should not discuss here." He cast a meaningful glance around at the remaining Shinigami in the room.

"I'd like to be there for all of these lessons," Chronus said, still unable to fully trust even the angel that had helped them. "Nothing personal, chap."

"As I said; we can discuss it in your place of residence. There are things I must explain to you both, before we begin."

"Well, let's get our bums out of here, then." Undertaker turned to go and he promptly tripped over the chair in front of him, flipping over it to land in a confused heap on the floor, his hat falling off his head to land on the floor next to him.

"W-was that there before?" he asked, feeling around blindly for his hat. He was blushing with embarrassment. Even though he didn't rely on his sight much to begin with, he now suffered disorientation after having his memory lapses.

"That was the chair you have been sitting in—so yes." Jase frowned, kneeling down to help his husband up, "Let me guide you out, please."

The doll then addressed the angel, "Currently we are staying as guests in the home of some close reaper friends of ours. Our home was burnt to the ground not long ago."

"So I had heard," answered the archangel, and he too helped Chronus up. "Yet another wrong my kin have to answer for. Your hat, Death."

"Ah, thank you." Undertaker took a moment to put it back on, before taking his spouse's hand to be led out.

"They did not describe your attacks as disoriented or clumsy, when those who were left in the chamber of light recounted your actions to the counselors today," remarked Uriel thoughtfully as he followed behind them to the exit. "In fact, they could have sworn you could see, though that should not have been possible after sealing your eyes as they did."

"I'm used to blind fighting," said Chronus. "Usually don't need my eyes much. I just get sloppy after I've had a memory lapse, is all. Didn't have much time to have one while we were making our escape, I suppose."

"I see." Uriel ducked under the doorframe and tucked his wings in to avoid catching them on the sides as he followed them out into the hallway. He wasn't troubled by the stares he got as he walked with the odd couple, though he smirked at the picture the three of them must make together. The tiny Frenchman, the blind death god and golden angel. "I hope it will improve with time, Death."

"Call me Chronus," insisted the ancient. "I dropped that old name long ago."

* * *

 

Eric had dozed off with Alan half-lying on him, and he gave a start when he heard the front door open and close. "Muhh," he groaned, a bit frustrated over being woken up. His husband weakly lifted his head at the sound and Eric stroked his back and gently eased him off, helping him into a comfortable position on the bed.

"I'll go an' greet 'em," he assured Alan. "Be righ' back wi' tha news, love."

He walked out of the master bedroom, rubbing his eyes, and he covered his mouth on a yawn. Forgetting that his shirt was hanging open because Alan liked the bedroom warm and he'd unbuttoned it while dozing with him, the Scotsman tromped down the hallway and into the living room.

"How'd it go?" he said, his eyes closing as he yawned again. "Is it brigh' in here, or is it jus' me?"

He opened his eyes again, and his brows went up. Standing in his living room was the archangel Uriel, looking around at his surroundings with curiosity on his fair, sculpted face.

"He followed us home," said Undertaker gleefully. "Can we keep him?"

"Part of the agreement for his release and Heaven's cease upon targeting Chronus and I was that Uriel give me lessons of sorts for my holy fire. –To ensure that it is used safely and for only good….and that it doesn't burn me up." Jase explained, "He'll be staying with us until my lessons are over. I hope that's okay."

"Uh...wull..." Eric was still waking up, and he looked at the shiny creature with grudging appreciation, recalling that Uriel was the one who offered himself as a hostage when they took Jase and Undertaker. He closed his shirt up hastily, feeling like a slob. "Yer welcome ta stay if Alan's a'right wi' it too. Um...Jase, why don' ye an' Chronus go say hi to 'im while I talk ta our new guest, aye?"

"Will do," agreed the mortician. He was getting around much better, now that the disorientation of his last spell was passing. He followed Jase into the master bedroom to greet and speak with Alan.

"I thank you for your hospitality," said Uriel in his chiming, otherworldly voice.

Eric glanced back to be sure Jase and Chronus were in the bedroom, and he gave the angel a stern look. "Save it. I want tae believe ya mean well, but tha lad's been through enough an' I want tae know abou' these 'lessons' yer plannin' tae give him."

Uriel blinked, then smiled. "Gaelic ferocity. I have missed that."

"Dinnae change tha subject," snapped Eric, keeping his voice down to a harsh whisper. "Yer help is appreciated an' all but I cannae trust ye jus' yet."

The angel inclined his red-gold head. "I understand. When I gain the approval of your mate to stay, I will sit and explain to all of you. You are a good father."

"I...he's no' mah son..." Eric flushed a little.

"Isn't he? Don't you treat him as such? Because he did not spring from your loins does not mean—"

"Shhh..." admonished Eric with a "cut" motion of his arms. "Wha' is tha', angelic porn? I dun' want tae hear ye talkin' about anythin' springin' from anyone's loins around Jase. His own husband's bad enough wi'out your smut addin' to it."

"P-porn?" Uriel chuckled. "I'm afraid I don't indulge in such things, Mr. Slingby."

"Well it sounded smutty tae me, so don't talk tha' way around him."

Thoroughly amused, the angel nodded in accord. "As you wish."

Jase slipped out of the master bedroom and approached the two, "Alan said that he can stay on the couch, but is not allowed to wander about except to the bathroom if needed." He informed them, then he paused, spotting how flustered Eric seemed to be. "Eric? Are you alright?"

"Fine," Eric assured, tempering his natural accent. The archangel's apparent delight in his Scottish brogue made him uncomfortable. He'd been more loose with it lately—even at work—but he didn't want this creature becoming endeared to him, even platonically. "Well, do you have a problem with that, Uriel?"

"Not at all," assured the angel. "I have no need of the chamber pot, though I will require nourishment on occasion to replenish my light."

Eric shrugged. "So what do ya eat? Sunshine? Rainbows?" He covertly stepped between Uriel and Jase, still wary of the creature.

"Angels are vegetarians." Jase said, basing his statement on what he witnessed his guards to eat when he was being held in his cell. "At least from what I have seen."

Uriel nodded, casting another amused look Eric's way. "This is true. We do not even require much. A serving of fruit or raw vegetables at the end of the day would suffice."

"Hmph. Well, we've got carrots and apples. I s'pose I could pick up some other things on the way home tomorrow." It was hard to stay on guard with this creature. Uriel was so bloody polite, despite Eric's standoffish attitude.

"Thank you." Uriel inclined his head and turned to Jase. "When you are ready to discuss our lessons, please let me know. I shall meditate and pray, in the meanwhile."

"We can begin tomorrow morning after breakfast." Jase said, peaking around Eric, "For now, it's late and I should get my husband into bed.

Eric snorted softly and crossed his arms over his chest as the angel turned around and walked over to said couch, folding his arms over his chest. "' _Yon couch_ '," he muttered. "Who talks tha' way?"

His accent was steadily returning again. He'd gotten used to speaking naturally again and it was hard to keep hiding it. With a sigh, he turned and looked down at Jase. "Jus' be careful wi' him, okay?"

Jase nodded, "Chronus will be with me the entire time. I won't disappear again, I promise." Jase reassured him, "That was one mistake I'll never make again." He looked at the angel, "Goodnight." He nodded before turning to retrieve his husband and tug him into their bed for the night.

Chronus readily went with his little spouse when Jase fetched him from the master bedroom. Eric came in as they left, said his good nights and made Alan more comfortable before sliding into bed with him.

In their own bedroom, the retired reaper and the Frenchman prepared to bed down together. Chronus had the good sense to lock the door before feeling his way around to the bed.

"I'm alright, love," he assured Jase when he felt him come up to him.

He took off his blindfold as he dimmed the lamp, and he blinked. He could see a vaguely Jase-shaped blob, but that was all.

"I really miss seeing your face," he lamented, reaching out to cup it in his hands with care. "Even though I had to be right in front of you to see it clearly."

He missed certain other things that had more to do with touch and taste, too, but he and Jase hadn't had the chance to partake in that since their escape.

"I know, love." Jase said, removing his blindfold and stripping out of his clothes to change into his new pajamas they had purchased as his old pair had been ruined. "But we'll get our life back in order soon…a few lessons with this angel, then we can work on rebuilding our cottage…move back in on our own little private life, together…alone." He purred, slipping up against Undertaker's chest and kissing his clavicle. "Your eyes should heal by then."

"Mmm," sighed Undertaker. He started to remove his garments subtly, not wanting to deter Jase from his loving attentions. He nuzzled his hair as he slipped out of his robe and sash first and let it fall to the ground, before working on the buttons of his shirt. "Help me slip out of this?"

He didn't really need help, but he was getting  _in the mood_  now that things had wound down again, and he'd been convinced he might not see Jase again when the angels took him off to purify him.

"You're helpless…" The doll teased with a small chuckle, working open each button and guiding him to the bed, "Are you going to be a good husband and wear your pajamas tonight, or are you planning on scaring Eric again when you get up naked to use the toilet?"

Undertaker chuckled. "I promise to put on my night-robe before leaving the bedroom for any reason." He paused and reached out to touch his face. He traced the features and closed his eyes, allowing his fingertips to refresh his memory.

"I honestly thought…ah, but it doesn't matter now," murmured the ancient. He smiled tenderly in Jase's direction, opening his clouded eyes again. He cupped the doll's chin and bent over to kiss him softly on the mouth. "I'm a very fortunate reaper."

"You thought…what?" Jase asked, looking up at him in the darkness and pausing in working open all his many buttons, "That you have finally realized that you have too many buttons?"

Chronus chuckled. "Well, there is  _that_ , but no. I started to say I thought it'd be the end for me, and I'd never got to love on this sweet body again, or hear your precious voice calling my name, or just sit with you and read together. That hurt most of all, when I realized I might really die after all."

"I…worried that that would be the outcome, too…" Jase admitted, finally working open the last button and helping to push the shirt from Undertaker's back before he guided his lover to sit on the edge of the bed, slipping onto his lap, "I felt so hopeless at the idea…and panicked when I could feel what they were doing to you. I thought that—the next time I'd see you…you'd be nothing but a body. I—I couldn't stand it…I had to do something…I had to save you." Jase's soft voice cracked as he found himself on the verge of tears, "You are my greatest treasure, Chronus… You're strong, and brave…but against all of heaven..?"

Undertaker smiled tenderly and hugged him close. "I wasn't thinking of the odds, darlin'. I was only thinking of you. Couldn't let them take you away again. It's over now, though. I just want to celebrate that and kiss you all over."

He demonstrated his point by peppering smooches all over Jase's face and neck, feeling bad for having brought up the subject and distressed him. "Mmmp, mmp, mmp..." He made the little sound with each kiss, exaggerating his affection just enough to be silly and affectionate at the same time.

Jase giggled, turning his head to kiss his lover back. "I love you." He hummed before he caught his lover's lips with his own.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	17. Chapter 17

Back at their apartment, William stripped his blazer off, followed by the sleeve garters. He put the garters back in the top drawer of the dresser and he hung the blazer up for dry cleaning. He smirked at his lover when Ronald tromped into the bedroom, covering his mouth on a yawn. "We've had a very busy day," he remarked. "And it's only Wednesday." The last was said with a small sigh.

"Ronald," he said thoughtfully as he tugged his tie loose and hung it in the closet, "What do you think of the possibility of the Undertaker returning to Dispatch, some day? Obviously not now, of course. He's far too unstable; but should his mind heal enough and he desire it...?"

He looked at the blond expectantly, interested to hear his opinion.

Ronald shrugged, stripping out of his shirt, vest and jacket all at the same time, letting it fall into a clump on the floor before he dropped his pants and flopped onto the bed, "He's good at it. We'd benefit from having him on the team again or whatever. Why? Want your idol back in the office?" he smirked, turning his head to look up at William.

The brunet looked at the pile Ronald dropped on the floor, and his eyebrow twitched. He pointed wordlessly at it. They had already discussed the folly of tossing dirty clothes on the floor after William got tired of cleaning up after him and tossed a bundle out the window abruptly one night, leaving Ronald to collect them from the street below.

"I'll take care of it in the morning, Will. Loosen up a bit!" Ronald groaned, "It'll be fine!" he paused, "And know if you throw it outside again I'm going out naked to get it, and I'll make sure the neighbors know that it's your fault."

William pursed his lips and began to unbutton his shirt with jerky, angry motions. "Don't be a shit, Ronald. You know how that annoys me and the hamper is right here by the closet. I am under enough pressure as it is, without being your maid."

"I don't expect you to pick up after me, Will." Ronald muttered, "I stopped stripping in the living room on my way to the bed. Haven't done it in months." He rolled onto his back and grunted as he sat up, tossing his pants to the hamper, managing to get it half in. "You're getting grumpy."

William tempered himself—and the sight of Ronald's naked body certainly helped with that. He smirked at him. "Yes, I suppose I am. I...didn't intend to take it out on you. I simply cannot stand clutter and it's just one more thing to rankle me." He shrugged out of his shirt and put it into the hamper on top of Ronald's clothes, and then he unbuckled his belt. "And you know I would end up fretting over it until I got out of bed to put it away myself, by now."

William managed a crooked little smile. "Are you certain you still wish to marry me?"

"Nobody's perfect. No couple is perfect. Eric and Alan have their little disagreements, I'm sure the old geezer and his Frenchman does too. Ours is just over how we undress at night when we aren't in the mood to be naughty."

"Yes, but there may be some ambiguity concerning his mental stability," reminded William reluctantly, "though he can be evaluated for that."

He reached out to stroke a lock of yellow-blond hair from Ronald's eye. "I recognize that I can lack objectivity when it comes to this reaper, and considering you're going to be my husband, I wanted your take on it. I suppose we shall see when his mind recovers. His fixation on his old job may simply be a symptom of him clinging to a past he lived for a very long time, to help him cope with the loss of other memories."

"Ask him about it once he's healed up a bit, mentally." Ron suggested, "But for now…cuddle your future husband. Get kisses before we fall asleep and have to deal with work again in the morning." He grinned.

* * *

 

The next day, Uriel began his lessons with Jase under the guarded watch of both Chronus and Eric. It was difficult to say which of the two reapers was trying to appear more menacing, but with his lacy blindfold and the fact that he wasn't even facing the angel, but the window, Undertaker's intimidation lacked bite. The sun remained oblivious to the ancient's warning stance as it slowly climbed in the morning sky and shone through the window.

Eric, on the other hand, could tell the difference between Uriel's glow and the sun's, and he stood barefoot in his robe with his arms crossed over his chest as the archangel sat cross-legged on the floor across from Jase, keeping a sharp eye on things.

"First, you must relax and focus inward," instructed Uriel to his young pupil. "Take a deep, cleansing breath and seek out that light inside of you, Jase."

"How will I know if it works?" Jase asked, mirroring the angel's position on the floor. His legs crossed and body relaxed. His blindfold protected his eyes from the bright morning light—and the angel's. "Will I feel it?"

"It is like the light you still see behind your eyelids after looking into the sun," Uriel tried to explain. "You will visualize it clearly when you find it, and you will begin to heat up. Try to call it to you, rather than push it away. You want to use it, rather than allow it to use you."

"Now, wait jus' a minute," protested Eric. "He could burn up, if he does tha'!"

"I'm right here," reminded Undertaker. He felt his way over to Jase, going by the sense of his mate's spirit, rather than trying to sort out his shadow from others. "I'll cool him right down if he gets too hot under the collar."

Jase bit his lip nervously, "Heating up is never good for me…shouldn't we do this someplace…colder? And less flammable? I nearly set a wagon on fire once just by touching it…had scorch marks from my hands… Maybe I can sit in a tub of ice water?"

Eric nodded. "That'd be a sure way ta tell if he's touched his ball o' sunshine or no'. If tha water starts ta bubble, he's heatin' up."

"Or farting," said Chronus tactlessly.

Jase's face flushed red in horror, "Chronus!"

Uriel gave the reaper a dry look, but Eric covered his mouth and coughed. Undertaker jumped a little at his husband's cry. "What? Nothing to be ashamed of, m'dear. Everyone who eats passes gas...even angels. I'd say the only folks that don't drop their guts is demons."

"I'll...go an' draw tha bath water," Eric said in an unsteady voice, wanting nothing to do with the confrontation and fearing he might start laughing at Jase's mortification and Undertaker's brutal frankness. "An' they used tae call  _me_  inappropriate," he muttered, lips twitching.

The doll sighed, hiding his face in his hands. He couldn't help but be embarrassed, but he sighed and pushed himself up, "I'll go change into something that would be more comfortable in the water." He said as he went to find a baggier pair of slacks and one of Chronus' shirts.

Left alone with the angel, Chronus felt just a little shamed. "Something I said, do you think?"

Uriel chuckled softly. "One thing that I can say for you, Death, is that at least you are honest with your thoughts. Similar to a child."

"Ah, so I'm immature, eh?" The mortician smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I would be more inclined to describe it as endearing," corrected the angel, "and your loved ones seem to feel the same, no matter how they may scold you for it."

"Well, that's something, at least."

Once Jase had changed into looser fitting clothing, He walked to the sitting room, "I'm ready when you are." He said before joining Eric in the bathroom and getting into the tub of cold water—which he assumed Chronus would chill further for him before they began. The large white undershirt belonging to his husband swam in the water around him, and a few bubbles of air escaped out the legs of his slacks, bursting to the surface.

Undertaker peeked his blind head around the doorframe with a smile. "Ready for me, love?"

"Of course." Jase nodded, "Let's get this over with and hope that I learn this quickly."

Chronus felt his way in and he squatted beside the tub. Uriel came in a moment later, and the angel somehow managed to shrink his form. His wings still bumped against cabinets and accessories, but he managed to squat down besides Jase.

"Shall we begin?

* * *

 

Jase had finished his lessons with the angel, and had learned to expel the flames from his body when they got too dangerous for his own well-being. It worked better than Undertaker's death chill. He'd been surprised to discover that after expelling the flames, he could feel temperature better. Not for long, only about a day before the heat of his inner flames took over again, but expelling the flames once a week proved healthy for him. It took a lot of energy to do so, but he could save himself from over heating that way.

The archangel said his goodbyes outside Eric and Alan's home, once he was certain Jase had mastered control of his angelic fire.

"I wish you all well," said Uriel with a little bow. His gaze flitted to Eric. "And I am truly sorry for your mate's ailment. Be strong for him."

Eric nodded, on the verge of asking the angel if he could heal the Thorns. He reckoned that if he could, he'd have tried it, though. Uriel was much more compassionate than the rest of his brethren they'd met.

"Sorry we go' off tae a rocky start," he said uncomfortably, "an' thanks fer yer help."

"Of course." Uriel gave Jase a soft smile. "Be well, little friend. I shall keep you and your amusing mate in my prayers."

With that said, he spread his great, golden wings and ascended into the sky, soon disappearing in the clouds.

* * *

 

After Uriel left for Heaven once more, Jase and Undertaker had started rebuilding their home with the help of their reaper friends when they weren't too busy. Even Eric helped sometimes when he knew a nurse was looking after Alan.

Alan hadn't gotten worse, but he hadn't gotten any better and was still stuck in bed.

Their home had finally been finished that evening, complete with Faith's new stable. Furniture had been brought in, and all they had left was to move in. However, Alan and Eric had requested that they stay one more night, which they agreed to; spending the evening up, talking and enjoying each other's company until Alan fell asleep and Eric remembered some work he needed to finish.

"Eric? Can I ask you something?" Jase asked, walking into the home office Eric and Alan used to work late at night rather than stay at the office if they could help it. He closed the door softly behind him and waited for the man's answer. Not wanting to bother and distract him all  _that_  much from his work. Normally he'd wait until he knew Eric was finished working, but it was getting quite late and even Chronus had already turned in for the night.

The Scottish reaper paused in his paperwork, and he smiled fondly at the little Frenchman. "O' course. Have a seat, lad." He gestured at the leather Chesterfield chair by the bookshelf. "What's on yer mind, Jase?"

"Well," Jase said, slipping into the chair and looking down at his hands which he clasped in his lap, "Chronus and I are moving back home tomorrow…and I wanted to do something special for him, especially since he's started getting his sight back, finally."

Eric nodded. "I can understand tha'. What'd ya have in mind?"

"Uhm…" The doll fidgeted nervously, letting the silence between them drag out until Eric was about to speak, opening his mouth, only to be interrupted by Jase's nervous voice, "How do you seduce people?!"

Eric's brows shot up in surprise. "Yer after some pointers?"

He scratched his head, feeling a might uncomfortable. This must be what parents felt like when it was time to have  _the talk_  with their children. He'd given other reapers pickup advice in the past, seeing as he was a player before he got with Alan, but this was a different matter.

"Er, wull…hrm."

How could he put it without getting crude? Then again, being married to Undertaker meant Jase was already used to crudeness. "Well, fer starters. it helps ta think o' tha things ya know they like. Certain touches, pillow talk, where ta kiss 'em…tha' sort o' thing. Look 'em in tha eyes an' speak softly, so they have tae lean close tae hear ya. A light caress here and there in jus' tha right place can get tha party started."

He flushed a little, feeling like he was corrupting an innocent. "Jase…I honestly doubt ya need tae do much ta get yer husband's attention. Th' man can hardly keep his hands off ye as it is."

"I know—that's why. He's always the one to start things. He's the one that always gets me hot and bothered. I want to be the one this time. I want to give him something he'd never expect." He bit his lip, "How does Alan surprise you? I know he's done it before—I heard you two last time I lived here with you."

Eric's face went ruddy. "Ya did? Tha's…disturbing."

He recalled one way in particular that his spouse surprised him one day, and he grinned at the memory despite his discomfort. "Dressin' up might be a good way tae surprise him. Depends on yer comfort zone, sweetheart."

He wondered how his spouse would feel about him telling the boy he'd worn a dress for him on occasion. Figuring Alan wouldn't appreciate it very much, he decided to be vague. "Wha' do ye think ya can dress up as tha' Chronus would like? I know he's in ta medicine an' science. Maybe there's somethin' in tha' area ye could use fer ideas."

"What, you mean like a lab coat?" Jase frowned, "That doesn't seem very exciting…"

Eric chuckled, and he hoped his next idea didn't earn him the title of 'pervert'. "Maybe somethin' else. I dunno how ya feel abou' wearin' ladies' clothes, but ya could try maybe dressin' up like a nurse."

"A…nurse?" The doll flushed a deeper red, "People do that kind of thing?" He sat back in thought. His husband was a man who liked to change things up every so often. Maybe he would like something like that.

"…Will you come with me out to the store tomorrow? I'm not sure where to get something like that."

Oh dear gods…bad enough that he was giving his 'son' seduction advice, but now he'd have to pick out which outfit might make his husband want to shag him the most? It was on the tip of Eric's tongue to refuse, but the hopeful, pleading look on Jase's cute little face made him melt.

"Ye an' my husband ought tae bottle tha' 'puppy face' an' market it," grumbled the Scotsman with a sigh. "Ye'd make a killing."

Jase gave a small laugh and smiled, "Thank you, Eric." He stood up and walked to the door before looking over his shoulder at the reaper, "I'm going to go join Chronus in bed, now. I'll see you in the morning—don't stay up too late, working."

Eric smirked at him and picked up his pen again. "Al would ne'er let me hear tha end of it, if I did. G'night, Jase."

* * *

 

The next day, Eric took Jase to a medical uniform shop and he wished he could put a bag over his head as he waited for the doll to try on several nurse outfits. When Jase shyly came out of the dressing room in a candy-striper uniform, Eric had to force himself not to look away. He felt like a complete pervert, sitting here judging which uniform would make the boy more desirable to his mate.

As Jase approached the seat Eric was in and turned around in a circle, the Scotsman made himself eye the outfit critically, trying to imagine his own husband in it instead of the lad he thought of as a son.

"It's cute," he said, rubbing a gloved hand over the light goatee on his chin, "but a wee bit too…wholesome. I think ye should pick one wi' a shorter skirt an' a lower neckline."

It occurred to him that they might have to hit an adult costume store to get the look Jase needed to pull off, but there were still other outfits for him to try, yet. The thought of seeing the little Frenchman in fishnet stockings made him wish the gods would strike him as blind as the Undertaker had been mere weeks ago.

A little frustrated, Jase walked back into the changing room to try the next uniform he'd grabbed. They had been there for an hour and a half already, and he had no success in finding something to wear for Chronus that evening when they were alone once again.

He stripped out of the dress he had on and placed it back on the hanger, before trying on the next one. When he came back out to get Eric's opinion, he wore a traditional, long-sleeved white dress with an apron. The buttons closed up to his neck, though he'd left the top button open in order to have a 'lower neckline'. The skirt went down to his knees.

"How about this one?" he asked, spinning around and holding the uniform's hat in his hand.

Eric frowned slightly and shook his head. "No' unless yer man's go' a hard on fer puritans, 'm afraid." He immediately regretted his crude choice of words and he winced. "Er…sorry tae be so blunt, lad. Let's see ano'er one."

"This one's the last one…" Jase frowned, looking down and lifting the hem of the long skirt and looking at it. "None of them will work?"

Eric sighed in thought. "No' unless we take some scissors to 'em. I may have a solution, though. Maybe we're goin' abou' this tha wrong way. Go ahead an' change back into yer regular clothes, an' we'll hit a costume shop. Wha' ye need is somethin' sexy, no' practical."

Jase nodded and hurried to get back into his slacks, shirt, and vest, helping to hang the discarded uniforms back in their places before leaving with Eric. "I'm sorry if this is difficult for you…I have never done this before."

Eric put an arm around the significantly smaller, shorter man and gave him a brief, affectionate squeeze. "'s a'right, Jase. I cannae say I'm all tha' comfortable wi' it, but at tha same time, I'm glad ya trust me enough tae come ta me wi' this. We'll find somethin' good fer ya tae wear."

They got into his car, and the Scottish reaper drove a few blocks away to the nearest costume shop he recalled. Eric grimaced a little as he and Jase walked through the door of the adult costume shop, and the minute he saw a picture of a female model on the package of a very sheer body stocking, he covered Jase's eyes with his hands and flushed.

"…What?" Jase asked, blinking behind Eric's hand, "Is there a problem?" he frowned and peeled the man's hand off his face, looking up at him. "You know, I'll have to see what I'm trying on, right? And you brought me here, what are you trying to hide from me?"

Eric did take his hand off Jase's eyes, but he moved around so that his body was blocking Jase's view of the selection of women's body stockings hanging on the rack before him. "Forgot some o' th' packaging in here has pictures of models wearin' tha merchandise," he excused, "an' let's jus' say I dinnae want yer sensibilities rubbed tha wrong way."

He looked around for a salesperson, and he whistled at the female he saw restocking some colored hairspray. "Miss? Can ya help us out fer a sec?"

The Shinigami woman with the long blond hair smiled and walked over to them. "Of course! What can I help you gentlemen with today?" Her green-gold eyes went to Jase and a brief expression of puzzlement crossed her features when she saw the lacy blindfold on him. She likely could sense that he was no reaper, but he didn't give off a human aura, either.

"Mah son here wants ta pull a prank on someone," explained Eric with a charming smile—hardly hesitating to refer to Jase as such. It didn't feel so strange after all to call him that. "We were wonderin' if ye have any 'sexy nurse' costumes in his size."

She seemed even more confused, a tiny furrow appearing between her brows as she looked from the tall blond reaper to his diminutive companion. She seemed more confused over Jase being his 'son' than the request for a woman's costume, but she didn't question them. "That's one of our most popular kinds of costumes," she said, smiling again. "We have them in all different sizes and colors. Your…son…looks like he would use 'petite'. Right this way, and I'll show them to you."

Eric leaned towards Jase as they followed her through the shop to a different area. "Dinnae look tae th' left," he warned as they passed by section with BDSM merchandise. Och, Alan would kill him if he found out he brought Jase to a place like this.

The doll eyed Eric, "Your son?" he questioned. He saw Eric and Alan as family and knew they felt the same. But he was an adult, and he had been an adult when they met. He was about to comment on such, but another display caught his eye, causing him to freeze in shock.

"No nun would ever wear such a thing!" he gasped at the slutty nun costume. Form-fitting and cropped up to a mini skirt as the top was cut low to show off cleavage. Next to it was the male equivalent of the outfit. A priest's robes also modified to show off the body. In reality, the only reason he knew it was supposed to be priest robes was because it had the white collar. And next to that was a slutty angel costume. Jase was no longer a man of the church, having long ago learned the truth of things, but he still felt a pang of insult. Part of dedicating one's life to the church was taking on a modest life, something he still followed unless he was alone with his husband.

Jase fiddled with his wooden wedding band around his finger.

Eric shrugged and steered the young Frenchmen back on track behind the salesgirl. "Came off tha top of my head," he admitted, "Prolly 'cause people keep tellin' me I act like yer father. Hope tha' didn't bother ye too much. Jus' don' pay any attention tae these other costumes, Jase. We're here on a mission, aye?"

"Those ones shouldn't be costumes!" Jase said, pointing back at the display, "I do see you and Alan as family. 'Son' just threw me off."

Eric couldn't help but chuckle. "Sorry, lad. I was jus' tryin' tae think of an excuse fer ye ta be in here lookin' fer th' costume, an' it popped out." He glanced back at the costumes that had offended Jase as they continued on. "An' nobody ever said reapers can be any less tasteless than mortals."

The saleswoman stopped in the next room, and she gestured at a selection of hospital and science themed costumes on the wall. "Please have a look around and let me know if you need any help deciding on one."

Eric nodded at her and he looked at the nurse combinations thoughtfully. "Wha's Chronus' favorite color, Jase?"

"He's quite fond of pink." Jase said, walking along the rows of hanging uniforms. "In fact, I am surprised he doesn't wear pink often."

Eric stopped in his tracks, surprised. "Pink? Really?" His mouth twitched, but then again, pink was considered a masculine color in the mortal world, right now. "A'right, then. Looks like they've actually go' a few in tha' color scheme. Hmm."

He found one with pink as the base color and white trim, and he checked the length and cut of it. Unfortunately, the costume's package had a picture of a buxom blond reaper woman modeling it, and he grimaced a little before pulling it down for Jase's inspection. The skirt portion looked like it fell midway to the knees, and it was slit up the sides. The top had two buttons and it was designed to part wide into a V shape at the chest, exposing a generous amount of cleavage.

"This one comes wi' a little cap an' a pair of pink fishnets. Wha' ye think, Jase?"

"Why would it come with a fishing net?" Jase asked, naively confused. He looked at the dress. The sleeves were short with cute pointed cuffs, but the skirt was shorter than he would have thought. But maybe that was just what it looked like on the hanger. He reached out and took it from Eric, "Where's the dressing room? I'll try it on."

Eric looked around and pointed, trying hard not to burst into laughter. "Ahem...when I said 'fishnets', I meant stockings. That's tha term fer 'em 'cause they look like...well...fishing net. There's a dressing room o'er there in tha back corner."

Jase flushed and hurried to the dressing room to change. Once he'd stripped down and put on the uniform, he flushed darker as he looked in the mirror. The top needed more buttons…and the skirt was just as short as it had looked, the slits on the side going up his thighs even higher. "I think it's too small!" he called out.

Eric paced slowly with his hands in his blazer pockets, and he looked up at the distressed call. "Come on out an' let's have a look."

"But it's too small." Jase said, poking his head out from behind the curtain, cheeks a bright pink, "I don't want to come out…come closer and I'll let you see. But I won't go out for strangers to!"

Eric covered a smile with a gloved hand. Chances were he'd be just as disturbed as Jase was over the alleged smallness of the outfit, but he'd promised to help him pick something out. He walked to the dressing room and he pulled the curtain aside to have a look. When he saw the risqué combination on the modest little Frenchman, he flushed in embarrassment for him even as he could appreciate the overall look. He would have liked to see Alan in something like this, and that was the standard he measured it by.

"It fits jus' as it's s'posed to," Eric assured him, looking for long enough to decide it was the right thing. "I know it's embarrassin', but I'm sure Chronus'll love it."

Jase tugged at the skirt, as if trying to stretch it out a bit more, "You think so? It shows so much skin, though…and I think it's missing a few buttons up here." he pointed to his bare chest.

Eric couldn't contain a chuckle. "It's meant tae be tha' way," he tried to explain. "It's an erotic costume, no' a real one."

"I guess I simply don't understand this kind of thing." Jase sighed, "But I'll get this one if you are sure it's what it's supposed to be like."

The Scotsman nodded. "I think its jus' right, fer tha purpose ye've got in mind. I'll wait fer ya tae change so we can buy it an' get outta here."

Jase nodded and waited for Eric to leave before he changed back into his own clothes and put the costume back on the hanger. That evening was going to be exciting…but he'd have some nerves to overcome before he'd be able to step out into his lover's gaze dressed in such a dress.

* * *

 

"A'right, we're home," announced Eric as he and Jase walked through the door. Jase's new acquisition was carefully disguised in a plain brown bag, and Eric held it to deter the Frenchman's curious husband from trying to have a peek. He leaned over to speak in a low voice to Jase. "Let me know when yer ready fer it. I'll keep it in our room 'till then."

When Jase nodded and went out back to join his husband on the porch, Eric carried the bag into the master bedroom and he set it against the wall by the door. The nurse was just finishing up with Alan's IV. "Ya can go fer th' rest of tha day when yer finished wi' tha'," he told her.

"Yes sir," she agreed, and she finished up and said goodnight to them both, before gathering her things and leaving.

Eric sat down on the edge of the bed and he smiled at Alan in greeting, reaching out to stroke his hair. While he appreciated the help whenever he couldn't be there to take care of him, he preferred to do it all himself whenever he was at home. The time would come when he could no longer do it any longer, as he didn't have the medical training required to see to his needs once his condition became critical. Right now, Alan was off his oxygen and he seemed to be doing okay. Eric checked his watch. He'd need to give him oxygen therapy to help his heart in an hour.

"How're ye feelin', sweetheart?" he asked softly.

"I've been better." Alan smiled, "But I've also been worse." He rubbed his head and turned his head to look at Eric, "I have quite a headache."

He shifted himself down to lay down and close his eyes, "Eric…remember when we first met?"

Eric nodded. "I do."

He took his shoes off and climbed into bed with him, gently enfolding him in his embrace. He rubbed his husband's back soothingly and he wished he could make everything alright again. "Ya were such a shy, uncertain thing at first. Took a while tae coax ye outta yer shell."

"I wish I had come out sooner…" Alan admitted, rolling onto his side and snuggling up against Eric, "I would have if I had known just what you are to me." Running his fingers over Eric's shoulders, he smiled, "Remember when you were trying to show off and ended up falling into the bay? You had a fish stuck in your sleeve when you finally got out."

Eric huffed a laugh. "Aye, tha's a memory I'll no' soon forget. What a nightmare! An' you jus' stood on tha bank laughing yer little arse off at me instead of helping me."

He poked him gently in the side, grinning. "Ya can be a cruel one, lover."

Alan gave off a small laugh, his smile growing, "I cooked that fish up for our dinner, though...We could say that it was our first date, in a way."

He kissed Alan's nose, then his lips. He wished they could go camping again...wished they could do so many things together that they used to do...but he avoided bringing them up. Every moment with Alan counted to him, more than ever before. He closed his eyes and stroked his hair. "Those were good times," he murmured.

Alan fell silent, simply taking in the time they had together for a while, "I wish…we could have traveled the world together more…Visit your homeland…I would have enjoyed seeing Scotland…"

Eric held him tighter and he kissed his forehead. "I'd have liked tae give ye a tour. Gods I love ya, Alan."

"I…am not ready for this…." The brunet said in a small voice that cracked as he found himself on the verge of tears, "I want to stay with you…even if I'm in this bed for eternity…I want to be alive with you… Eric—Stay with me…until the end. I don't want you to go…"

The Scotsman turned his head to kiss Alan's palm, and he nodded, a tear escaping from his left eye to etch a shining path down his cheek. "Aye. Anythin' ya want, Alan. I'll call in tae take as much time off as I need to. I'll be righ' here at yer side 'till...'till the end." He swallowed hard, his throat aching. He would be the one to collect his beloved's cinematic record when his heart finally gave out. He wouldn't allow anyone else to do it, regardless of how painful it would be for him.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	18. Chapter 18

Later that afternoon, Chronus and Jase finished moving out of Eric and Alan's spare room and into their newly rebuilt cottage with some help from Ronald Knox who had the afternoon off work that day, and was helping his busy lover to know that everything was going smoothly in the move back into the mortal French countryside. Normally, it'd be William's duty to do so as Chrocus' probation officer. But the man was buried in paperwork again, so Ron offered to help him out.

After worried goodbyes to the couple they were staying with and promises to visit as much as they could, Jase and his husband finally parted and found themselves alone in their home once more. It felt a little lonely after always having others around all the time, but they were also glad to have their privacy back.

As evening fell, they enjoyed a simple dinner for two and then cleaned the dishes together.

"Why don't you go get in bed? I'll be right there." Jase smiled, kissing his lover's lips before pulling away and heading for the bathroom. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about what he was about to do.

Undertaker shed his clothing and dropped it in the hamper, before putting on his pajamas and climbing into bed. He smiled as he relaxed against the headboard, propping a couple of pillows up behind him. He was looking forward to christening their new bed with some lovemaking. The Slingphries had certainly been gracious hosts and good friends to them, but there was nothing quite like having their own home again. He frowned thoughtfully as his mind went to the couple. He'd grown quite fond of both of them, and he truly regretted that Alan didn't have much time left in his young life. Of all the reapers in the world that might deserve such a fate, Chronus didn't believe Alan was amongst them.

Did it have to end with the Thorns, though? He'd brought a human from the brink of death...he'd perfected his process to allow full sentience. If it could work with a mortal, perhaps it could work for a reaper, as well. The trouble was, would Alan  _want_  to be brought back as a bizarre doll? He might not be able to resume his career as a Dispatch agent, as well. Turning a Shinigami into a doll could very well result in a loss of the natural abilities their race was born with. Still...he'd overheard Alan speaking with Eric on a number of occasions, and the lad always expressed a sort of quiet desperation to keep living, to stay with his husband.

Maybe he could offer to do his process just one last time, for their sake. He could not stop the Thorns from killing him, but he could probably bring him back to life afterwards, if Alan truly wished it. He already knew Eric would be on board with it.

"Chronus?" Jase's soft voice broke him free of his thoughts as the door opened a crack. On the other side, Jase took a deep breath to calm his nerves over his outfit. He wore a pastel pink pair of pumps that matched the color of his uniform. His legs clad with a bright pink pair of fishnet stockings with white bows at the top, just under the short skirts. His hands were clad in thin, white lace gloves, and his hair was pulled up into a high ponytail with a pink bow. The nurse's hat upon his brown locks. His blindfold was gone, knowing the room would be dim enough for him.

Gathering his courage, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped in, his heels clicking against the wooden floorboards of their bedroom. His stance was still shy, lace covered fingers fidgeting with each other at his waist as he waited for his husband's reaction.

Chronus looked up, and he blinked when he saw Jase's blurred form. It took him a moment to register what he was looking at, due to his nearsightedness.

"Oh my...come closer, love. Either my eyes are playing tricks on me or you're dressed in a delightfully naughty pink nurse's dress."

Jase walked over towards the bed, his slow stride accentuated by the click of pink heels on the polished wooden floorboards, his hips swaying a little more than usual. He stopped, inches away from the edge of the bed, his cheeks bright red. "I…I am…." Then, remembering what Eric had suggested, he opened his soft pink lips, "J-just let me help you feel better."

Undertaker could not stop staring. He never would have  _dreamed_  his darling Jase would wear such a thing, and his efforts to be sexy were so bloody adorable the mortician thought he could die from it. He smiled at him and he patted the bed invitingly, his gaze traveling over Jase's body from the pink nurse's cap to the fishnet-covered feet. Was that a garter he saw, as well? He started to salivate.

"Well then, Nurse Dubois, mayhap you ought to check my temperature. The room feels suddenly hotter, and I might be coming down with a fever."

"And you're drooling," Jase flushed, climbing onto the bed and straddling his lover's legs, the tight skirt taut across his separated thighs. Eric had been right. Chronus seemed to fully enjoy the outfit. Seeing his husband's reaction helped his confidence and he leaned in, kissing the man's lips lightly—teasingly.

Undertaker returned the kiss with a grin, wiping his chin off self-consciously with his sleeve as he did so. "Just more proof that all's not quite well in Chronus-land," he said between kisses. "I think I may need a complete physical, pretty nurse." He reached out to stroke Jase's long ponytail, his groin twitching under the sheets. He could definitely get used to little games like this.

"You like it? I mean…this isn't too much?" Jase questioned, looking down at himself. He was having troubles keeping to the part of a nurse. But even as he asked, he began to unbutton Chronus' shirt, soon pushing it from his shoulders and leaning down to capture a little pink nipple with his lips, suckling on it as Chronus had to him so many times.

The reaper started to answer him, but he became...distracted. The feel of Jase's lips around his nipple made a little thrill go through him, and rational thought went right out the window. "I...forgot what I was about to say," he admitted as he cupped Jase's bottom. "I think...I was going to praise how well you...pull off that uniform."

Jase trailed his tongue up along his lover's chest from his nipple, now erect, to his clavicle before pulling back to move up to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste them before he kissed them with a tiny moan. His hands trailing down to his hips.

Chronus squeezed his bottom, his eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. He let go of his bottom with one hand and he caressed his bared chest, already aching with desire for him. It was such a temptation to flip the small Frenchman onto his back and ravish him, but he didn't want to spoil the moment or risk damage to the delightful little costume he'd worn for him.

"I've never been so grateful to get my sight back," he announced huskily. "Might I ask what gave you the idea, pet?"

"I…wanted to surprise you for our first night back home…and I asked Eric and he said that something like this would work. He helped me get it…I thought this one was too small on me but he said it fit me perfectly." The doll admitted.

Mildly surprised that the protective Scotsman would not only encourage such a thing, but help him obtain it, Chronus laughed softly. "Do tell. I almost wish I could have been there to see the look on your darling little face."

He caressed said face, sliding his hand up Jase's chest to run his fingers over the sculpted, youthful features. He brushed his thumb back and forth over the pink stained lips, savoring the feel of them. "Thank you, my dear...for doing something that I know must have been frightfully uncomfortable for you. I'm a very fortunate old reaper, indeed."

"It makes you happy, and that's all that really matters. Not that I feel naked and exposed…Only you are enjoying it, though." Jase kissed him again, "I'm afraid I'm not so good at playing a nurse in this situation, though…but I look like one."

"If the nurses in hospitals dressed like this, I daresay their patients would never want to be discharged," teased the reaper with a wink. He ran his fingers over Jase's exposed chest again, and his other hand slipped beneath his skirt to caress the soft skin of his bottom. "You don't need to play the role, my dear. Just the sight of you like this is plenty to excite me."

"Hmm~" Jase smiled, pressing his lips to Chronus' neck, "Then maybe I'll do this for you more often, sometimes." Cheeks flushing again, he rolled his hips, grinding himself against his husband's groin, "…It's been so long…"

Undertaker's breath caught, and he lifted beneath him a bit to increase the friction. It  _had_  been a while. They had been so busy with rebuilding their home, and before that Jase had his hands full taking care of him as he recovered. He still had memory gaps and he still forgot himself and thought he needed to go into work on occasion, but he was otherwise almost back to his old self.

He considered undressing his husband, but he took so much delight in the little outfit he was wearing that he decided the skirt and the top would be the only things to go, besides the panties. Having him in the garters, stockings and heels had an undeniable appeal to it. He began to unbutton the top, tilting his head back to give Jase greater access to his scar-ringed throat.

"Soft lips," he purred in approval, smiling. He did love the feel of those lips on his skin.

As the tight little uniform loosened, Jase relaxed a little more, kissing and sucking lightly on his husband's neck. Though, in the back of his mind he wondered what the point of dressing up for sex was if it was removed so quickly. But Undertaker knew what he was doing more than Jase. So he didn't voice it.

Due to their bond, the mortician sensed Jase's faint confusion as he began to remove some of the garments. "I'd adore it if you wore this again for me soon, love...perhaps when I'm not so randy." He grinned and he lightly snapped one of Jase's garters against a smooth thigh. "Make no mistake, I don't intend to strip you of  _all_  of it. I just want to make my darlin' a lil' more comfortable."

He nibbled Jase's ear and he eased the top off of his shoulders, dropping it on the bed beside him before locating the zipper on the back of the skirt and tugging it down. Well, that was convenient. He grinned, more than happy with how this was turning out. He was even more delighted to discover the cut and material of the pink satin, black lace panties Jase was wearing beneath the skirt. He tugged the skirt off and dropped it on top of the top, and then he coaxed his lover to sit back a bit, so that he could feast his eyes on him.

"So lovely," breathed the mortician in excitement. He ran his pale hands over Jase's lean torso, his palms stroking his ribs before curving inward to glide over the tight little stomach. He didn't think it was possible to get any harder than he already was, but his goods proved him wrong and he shifted a little, trying not to poke his husband quite so hard in the thigh from beneath the covers. He rubbed the Frenchman's rosy nipples gently as he gazed at him, and he swallowed to prevent further drooling.

"More exposed, you mean." Jase accused, gasping as he was fondled. Chronus knew just how to push all the right buttons with him in bed, and it made his body heat and the thin women's-style panties he wore grow tighter, constricting him even more than his normal tight-fitting pants would. "O-oh..!" he gasped, gripping Undertaker's shoulders tighter.

His breathing quickened. It was uncomfortable…yet in a pleasant way, which in turn only made it more-so. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as he hummed, shifting to rub himself against Chronus' thigh through the panties and the thin blanket.

Unable to bear it, the reaper rose up from his reclined position and he put his arms around his love, kissing him deeply as he shifted, so that he could lower Jase onto his back. He ground himself between the smaller man's stocking-covered thighs, cupping one smooth hip and curling his tongue in his mouth. He groaned softly and he lifted up to tug his pajama bottoms down, aching to be free of the garment.

"So…mmh…hot…" The Frenchman gasped, his accent growing even heavier, threatening to switch over to his mother tongue completely. His lace-clad hands slid around his husband's back and up into long silver hair. His fingers tangling in the locks and tugging as he let out a moan. "Need…you, Chronus…"

The reaper hissed with pleasure, always a sucker for having his hair tugged, brushed or otherwise played with. He wriggled out of his bottoms and kicked them off, before sitting up to tug Jase's panties down and off. Breathing heavily, he stared down at his spouse, glad for the absence of the blindfold. He adored gazing into those vivid, blue-swirled eyes and when he noticed that Jase was squinting a bit, he reached out to click the lamp brightness down a notch.

"Better, darlin'?" he breathed, opening the drawer to reach for the oil they'd put in there for just such an occasion. He smiled at the sight of Jase's flushed cock lifting slightly off his stomach as it throbbed, and he oiled his hands up and reached out to give it a pet.

"Much." The doll nodded, rolling his hips into his lover's touch. "I forget how bright the electric lights are sometimes…" he trapped the reaper's waist with his legs and pulled him back down so that he could continue to kiss his pale flesh. Earlier that day he had released his holy fire for the week and he still had the ability to feel temperature. Undertaker's heated flesh…he could feel it for the first time. How he made his husband's body heat up with need. Jase ran his trembling fingers over Chronus' warm cheeks and down his neck to his chest as his lips pressed against his.

"Mmmph," groaned Chronus against the hot little mouth. The ache of arousal was getting almost painful. He squeezed his husband's erection a little more firmly and he stroked a little faster. A glow brightened his eyes; one that sometimes manifested itself when he got particularly excited. It seemed to be a leftover manifestation of his experience in Heaven. It wasn't the green-ish glow typical of his kind; it was more of a white one.

"Jase," he murmured into the animated lips of his companion, his voice resonating musically as his lust took over.

"I know," Jase responded against his lips, "Me too…"

He let go of Chronus and he twisted and stretched to the side-table on Chronus' side of the bed, fumbling with the handle of the drawer before he finally got it open. His hand searching for a familiar little bottle. Normally, Chronus was the first one to reach for the oils, but Jase had started this. He was going to go through with it. Bottle in hand, he held it up to his lover's face. "L-lets try the new stuff you got." He gasped as Chronus continued to fondle him.

Undertaker stopped his ministrations and held his hand out without argument. After Jase dribbled some of the sweet-smelling oil over his fingers, he kissed him again and retracted his nails. The Frenchman put the bottle aside and he made one of those sweet, desperate little sounds in his throat as Chronus messaged the oil over his entrance, before slipping a finger in. The reaper reared his head back to gaze down at him as he began to prepare him, breathing heavily with need.

"Our first time in our rebuilt home," said Chronus huskily, smiling. Jase's comely features had taken on a blush again as he gently pumped his finger inside, waiting for the constriction to ease before adding a second. "Isn't this lovely?"

"Almost as lovely as our wedding night." Jase smiled between small gasps and moans, "…Special in it's own way, too." He flushed. Biting his lip, Jase pushed himself up to get closer to his husband and mate. "I want you to teach me some more things tonight."

"Oh?" The ancient grinned at the prospect, slowing his gentle ministrations so as not to accidentally hurt Jase in his excitement. "I can't say I've ever seen you so naughty before...and I'm enjoying it thoroughly."

He kissed him again, seeking out that special place inside of him that always made Jase wriggle and scream. He found it, but he was merciful and he only petted it gently. He muffled his gasp with another kiss, and he considered what sort of things he could teach him that wouldn't cross the line. Blindfolds weren't all that exciting an idea, considering Jase already wore one regularly and Undertaker himself had only recently stopped needing to. Light bondage could be fun too. He didn't want to pressure his love to do anything he might be uncomfortable with, though. It had taken him a long time to lose some of his inhibitions and the last thing Chronus wanted was to spook him with too strange a request.

"I'm not…nnh…naughty." Jase gasped, "I'm just ready for seeing more of what my husband enjoys." He nuzzled the reaper's neck, "You have been so gentle and slow with me over the years…we can try something more to see if I like it…to see if I can give you more."

Undertaker swallowed at the thought. Jase had already given him such a gift with this gesture, and he knew how difficult it must have been for him. Maybe he didn't  _need_  restraints or biting. After his experience with the angels, the idea was less appealing to him than it had once been. He'd never really cut loose with the Frenchman though, never taken him as roughly as he could have, for fear that he might hurt or alarm him.

"You've never seen the aggressiveness in me, love," he admitted, planting soft kisses over the panting doll's blushing features. "Not really. There are...other small things I'd like to try before I unleash the beast on you, though, if you really want to."

Nodding, the heel-clad young man took a deep breath, "Teach me. I promise to tell you if it's too much for me." he ran his hand through Undertaker's hair gently as he always did. Heaven had changed him, he could feel it. Even after loosing faith, he'd never fully embraced his own life as his own. He still always had hints of his background in the church and the faith holding him back. There had been some 'sins' he had yet to embrace as simply being part of a healthy life. Being up in the so-called 'paradise' had opened his eyes to how much his past self had been wrong about. Undertaker had tried to teach him, but sometimes eyes can only be open by experience.

Sex wasn't a sin, and he didn't want to hold himself or his lover back any longer.

"Teach me, and then let loose…" he whispered.

Heavens, did he dare? Undertaker stared at those sweet, parted lips and he traced them with a fingertip. Well, Jase wanted to give this to him and if he hesitated to take him up on it, he might get the idea he wasn't interested. With a little smile, Undertaker considered one position he hadn't yet really explored with his love, because he thought Jase might find it too demeaning. First though, he needed to butter him up. He slipped his fingers out of him and he eased off of him to stand up, his erect cock wiggling a little with the motion.

"Bend over the side of the bed, lovely," he purred.

"…Feet end to the floor I hope?" Jase joked to cover his fresh wave of flush coloring his cheeks as he pushed himself to his feet and kissing Undertaker's pectoral before turning around and bending over the bed, legs together which popped his rear upwards, and his hair brushing over his back and off his left shoulder, causing him to shiver from the light tickle. "Like this?"

It took Chronus a moment to answer, he was so absorbed in the sight of Jase like that. Oh sweet, phantom death, he thought he might lose what remained of his composure. His eyes fixated on the doll's bare, cute little bottom and he couldn't help himself—he gave it a little smack with one palm.

Jase gasped, jumping slightly as he had not expected to be spanked. But it hadn't been cruel, or punishing. In fact, it had been gentle, somehow, and only hard enough to send an unexpected thrill to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a small hum.

Undertaker was fairly surprised he didn't get a protest from the doll after that smack. He hadn't consciously intended to deliver it, but at least now he knew Jase didn't mind as much as he thought he would. He could sense the confused thrill it had given him, and he rubbed the target cheek soothingly before giving the other one a light smack. He grinned as Jase gasped again and he rubbed that cheek, too.

"Not to worry, love," he assured him. "I don't plan on spending the rest of the day spanking your precious little bum. A little swat now and then is just another way for me to express how much I adore it, odd as it sounds. Consider it a compliment that you have such a lovely arse I can't help but make it blush a bit."

His grin broadened as he considered another way he could express his appreciation for said bum, and he knelt behind the doll to kiss the lightly flushed, soft cheeks. His lips trailed over the smooth skin, showering it with light kisses as his hand slipped around the front of Jase's hips to fondle his erection again.

The Frenchman shivered and found his voice at last, "It…It didn't hurt…so it's okay."

Glancing over his shoulder at Chronus, Jase took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart, "I did it, right, then? Bending over this way for you?" He, of course, felt self-conscious about his pose, especially while being mostly in the nude. But he trusted his husband more than anything or anyone. And they were alone with no chance of someone else like Eric or Alan walking in on them. He gripped the bedding and let himself relax, Undertaker's soft kisses soothing away his worries.

"Oh yes," approved the reaper with a smile, his lips brushing against Jase's smooth cheeks as he spoke. "Just right, precious."

Feeling it was safe to get a bit more adventurous, Chronus traced the valley between Jase's buttocks with his tongue, licking at the oil he'd already applied. The taste of the herbal extract blend was pleasant, and he teasingly flicked his tongue against the bud of his entrance. He did no more than that, feeling he should limit how far he went with these experimental interactions of loveplay and gradually introduce him to more.

Another surprised gasp. Undertaker had used his mouth on him before, and on occasion, Jase had done so as well. But never like this. It felt…well, he didn't know how to describe it. In the back of his mind, he wanted to protest that it was dirty. But Chronus had chosen to do it on his own, so he likely wasn't worried about that. And it  _did_  feel good. The way his lover's slick, wet tongue teased around his tight little bud. Deciding he liked the treatment, he reached back and laced his fingers with Chronus' giving his hand a little squeeze. "Mmm…"

The reaction encouraged Undertaker to do it for a bit longer, and he gently stroked his length as he pleasured him with his lips and tongue. When Jase was trembling, his hand squeezing tightly and his breath hitching, the reaper knew he'd fired him up enough. He stopped stroking him but he still held onto his cock as he stood up, rubbing the head of his sex enticingly against the Frenchman's damp entrance.

"Hand me the oil again, darlin'," he urged, his voice tight and husky with want.

Jase nodded, reaching for the bottle sitting on the bed just within his fingers reach. Finally tugging it close enough to grab, he twisted, to look back at his husband, handing it out to him with a trembling hand. He was ready—beyond ready. His body begging for more. It almost reminded him of the need for Chronus to become one with him right after they had taken their vows. The long hours they had made love so desperately on their wedding night.

Suffering similar desperation, Chronus coated his length liberally with the oil before setting it on the nightstand, barely managing to avoid spilling it. He angled his hips and bent his legs a bit, before nudging inside of his love. Despite his bestial need, he was gentle as always. He would never hurt his Jase if he could help it, and he knew that once he adjusted he could get a bit rougher. He slid in slowly, driving forward until he was completely sheathed in his tight warmth. Chronus squeezed the doll's erection a little tighter and he rested his forehead on his shoulder, panting softly.

"H-how can it feel like it's been a lifetime," he gasped, "when it's only been 'round about a week? Oh, mercy..."

Jase's gasp was muffled into the blankets. They had only tried two different positions before. The first with Jase on his back, and the second with him 'riding' his husband. But this brought a whole new angle to the experience, and it seemed to reach deeper into him this way. The Frenchman's member throbbed in Undertaker's hand, twitching as he turned his head to gasp for air. "It…It has been much more than a week…" he moaned.

Undertaker smiled, rubbing the silken flesh of his lover's bottom as he waited for Jase to adjust. "Keeping track, are you?"

He moaned softly as the Frenchman pushed back against him, his question lost in pleasure. "Gods, Jase," he breathed with feeling.

Every sensation seemed magnified, but it wasn't enough for him. He withdrew and thrust back in, groaning. It was almost too much to take, and he clenched his jaw against the tide of pleasure washing over him. He began to pump rhythmically, pale buttocks flexing beneath the curtain of his silvery hair. He bent over to kiss Jase's tense shoulders, one at a time. His breath provoked goosebumps as it sighed over the soft skin, and he moaned, thrusting a little faster.

"N-ot ex-ex-ahngh!" Jase moaned and cried out, his knees giving out. "Chronus! Uhh-!"

His body was rocked against the side of the bed, sweat breaking out over his body as he accepted his husband inside him over and over. He couldn't kiss him. Couldn't demand those lips on his while taking him in from behind. But he was able to reach back for his hand, grabbing it and a handful of silver locks that got in the way, pulling both up to where he could kiss his knuckles, successfully pulling Undertaker's silver locks. "Mmmmh~"

The reaper's breath caught and he had to stop for a moment, struggling not to spill himself. "So bloody good," he panted, trembling. He stroked the doll's length again, determined to see to his pleasure first before reaching his own. He kissed Jase's shoulder, brushing his lips over the smooth skin again, unable to get enough of him. When he felt he could go on, he resumed his pumping, this time thrusting hard enough to make the bed shift across the floor. His lust began to take over again, and Chronus couldn't stop himself from pounding into his mate, groaning steadily.

The Frenchman cried out with each thrust. The sound of wood scraping wood taking on a pattern along with the bed's creaking. He found it harder and harder to control his body. His toes curling in his heels, his legs stretching out, his arms flailing out to the sides, his wrist knocking into the dimly-lit lamp on the nearby side-table and knocking it down with a crash. The light giving a bright flash before going out and leaving them in darkness.

"Ahh—Ah!" Jase felt his body start to stiffen before the heat in his gut finally released, spilling out, his seed dripping down the blankets on the bed he was bent over. "Oh mon Dieu! Chronus!" He trembled.

"Oh, that's it, love," gasped Chronus, his vision blurring as he felt the swift, precious little spasms massaging him with Jase's climax. He didn't want it to end just yet. It felt so good, and his husband was so sinfully alluring to him, with the stockings and heels still in place on him. He trembled with the effort to hold back his orgasm, his thrusts slowing a bit as he tried to calm down. It was no good. Jase's orgasm seemed to go on for an unusually long time, and the way his inner muscles kept rhythmically squeezing his length finally did the reaper in.

"Ahh...oooh," he groaned at last, bowing his head. He shoved deep into Jase and he filled him to the brim, closing his eyes with bliss. He'd come like this the night of their vows. It was like reliving that moment all over again. Panting helplessly, he twitched inside of him until he was completely empty of any seed left to give, and it was so intense it was almost painful.

"D-darlin'," he moaned, hugging Jase around the waist as he finally stopped bucking inside of him. He couldn't keep his knees from buckling a little bit, and he laid his cheek between Jase's straining shoulder blades. "I...I think ol' Chronus needs...a breather," he admitted between pants, stroking Jase's tight little abs possessively.

Panting, Jase turned his head to the side and relaxed, a moan breathing out gently as he waited for a little strength to return to him.

"I love you…" The brunet said, twirling his fingers in Undertaker's long hair, "I love you…"

Undertaker gave him another squeeze. "And I love you, dearest. More than words can say."

He eased out of him reluctantly and he urged him into bed with him, still weak in the knees. "My goodness, that was amazing," he sighed as Jase lay on top of him. He stroked the smaller man's hair and he loosened it from the ponytail, combing his fingers through it and spreading it out over his shoulders.

"Mmmh," The brunet hummed, snuggling against his husband and kicking off his shoes. He then scooched up Undertaker's tall, pale body, pressing their lips together finally in a deep kiss. Taking charge as he was the first to run his tongue along pale lips. "That was like our wedding night…kinda…" he agreed when he let the kiss drift.

"In a most satisfying way," agreed Chronus with a chuckle. "I think I was seeing colors behind my eyes at one point. You've a way of provoking passion in me I didn't even know I was capable of, my dear."

He sighed with satisfaction and made a purring sound in his throat, loving the feel of Jase's soft lips on his jaw. The little nurse's hat Jase still wore was crooked, slipping with the hairpins holding it in place as his hair was loosened. Chronus eased it off and set it aside on top of the clock, his nails skimming lightly over Jase's back as they enjoyed the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"I could say the same thing about you, my perverted husband." Jase teased, using the same teasing nickname he'd once used for Undertaker before they were married. He smiled, "This is nice…feeling how heated your skin is after we do that…"

"Mm, I'm glad you've learned how to control that fire," sighed the mortician. "Hate that it had to come at such a price, but it did improve your quality of life."

He thought of the way he'd saved Jase from the brink of death, and his thoughts went inexplicably back to a certain ailing reaper, whose time was nearly up. "Jase, I swore never to repeat the procedure I used on you again...but what if the morality behind it is blurred? What if it could save someone else, the way it saved you?"

"That feels like a trick question." Jase muttered, closing his eyes, "You know it's against the laws, and would be in violation of your probation. It's risky, but at the same time, I'm only alive today because you did it to me. Why ask so suddenly? You can't be thinking of…" he paused and lifted his head, "…Alan?"

Chronus gazed steadily into his eyes, trusting his spouse's judgment. Perhaps it wasn't the best time to bring up such a subject, but they were both sated and relaxed, and he himself tended to think a bit more clearly after the release of sexual tension.

"If I could bring him back, would you want me to?" he whispered. "I can't stop the Thorns from killing him, but the lad isn't ready to go. His spouse isn't ready to  _let_  him go. His death doesn't have to be the end...but in order to make that happen, I would need to commit one last sin...one last violation of natural law. It would have to be his own choice, of course, but it can be done. We both know my moral compass is a bit skewed; so I'm asking you for your opinion before I even consider approaching him with the proposal."

"That's not fair to ask me." Jase protested, hiding his face in Chronus' shoulder, "Of course I don't want him to die…he's like family to me at this point. I hate seeing him laying helpless in that bed day after day, unable to do anything for himself. I hate seeing the pain Eric is going through having to watch Alan die… Of course if there is a way to save Alan I'd want it to be tried…but…It may mean I'd lose you, Chronus. The courts wouldn't be so kind as last time about a repeat offence." He took a deep breath and looked back at Chronus, "Whether or not I tell you to do it or don't do it, I'll regret what I say."

The mortician stroked his hair, wincing a little with guilt. "Sorry to bring you into it, love. I just thought it might benefit me to have the opinion of someone I trust that's a little more on the lighter side of the gray area. I'm afraid I still meander a bit more to the black."

He sighed and lifted his head off the pillow, cupping Jase's chin to urge him to lift his head off his chest for a kiss. "I didn't mean to spoil the moment, darlin'. Funny how I'm old as balls but still think like a child, at times. It's just bloody unfair, is all."

"Do what you think is right." Jase reassured him, "There is more good in you than you know. You'll make the right choice. It's something only you can do." He leaned forward and kissed his lips.

Chronus held him close and he wondered about that.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	19. Chapter 19

Eric dabbed at his partner's sweat-beaded face with a cool washcloth, trying to sooth him after another bad attack nearly had him flat-lining. His other hand held firmly to one of Alan's, and dark circles of exhaustion lined his eyes. Looking nearly as pale as the Undertaker now, the small brunet reaper lay in his bed, struggling for breath. Eric gazed down at him, feeling his pain in his soul. It wasn't quite physical pain, but it wracked him nonetheless and it was only through sheer determination to be strong for Alan that he did not break.

"Mr. Slingby, we need to—" said one of Alan's doctors, now staying there at the home regularly due to the severity of his condition.

"I'll do it," interrupted the Scotsman.

"B-but you aren't properly trained to drain the fluid," protested the doctor. Said fluid was gathering around Alan's heart, pressing down on it...smothering it. Regular draining was required to keep the pressure off.

Eric shut his eyes and bowed his head. "I'll move, but I'm no' leaving his side."

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look. "Of course."

As he moved in to do his work, Eric scooted as far out of his way as he could without letting go of Alan's hand.

Breathing hard, fighting for each breath, Alan opened his eyes. It was getting harder and harder to even stay awake these days. "No…" he tugged on Eric's hand, not wanting him to leave, "Don't go…" He gave a weak cough as the doctor unbuttoned his pajama top and parted it to expose his pale, vine-scared chest. He shivered as the cold air hit his skin. His chest raising and falling in a broken rhythm.

"We should hook him up to a respirator machine." A nurse suggested as she helped prepare the dying reaper, "If he stops breathing completely, he'll fall into a coma he may never awaken from."

"I'm righ' here, sweetheart," reassured Eric, squeezing Alan's hand. He bowed his head and nodded in response to the nurse's suggestion. "Do it. K-keep him..."

He started to say to keep him there for as long as they could, but his words caught in his throat and he couldn't finish. Selfish, selfish bastard. Trying to prolong every agonized moment, just so he could have his Alan a bit longer.

There was a disturbance from the hall then, and Eric sniffed back his tears and looked up to see a familiar silver head peak in. Undertaker had taken his hat off, and his expression was caught between somberness and warm greetings as he smiled.

"Yoo-hoo. Thought I'd drop by while Jase is out at the market. Can I come in?"

The doctor finished drawing fluid from around Alan's heart, and he gave Eric a questioning look as he put his tools away to be flushed and sterilized again. Eric glanced at his mate with a sigh, knowing Alan would probably like a visit from the mortician.

"Go on," he said to the medical staff. "Get tha respirator prepared while our friend visits."

Knowing better to argue with the man after the last time he'd thrown a barf pan at the doctor's head for being stubborn about giving him time alone with Alan, they made a hasty retreat. Chronus stepped aside for them and he waited until they filed out, before coming in. He approached the deathbed and he laid a pale hand on Eric's shoulder.

"You too, lad. This visit is for your spouse and I alone, while he can still speak to me."

Eric looked up at him with furrowed brows. "I will nae leave his side."

"Just for a few moments," urged the mortician. "This is very important, Eric. For both of you. I sincerely  _need_  to speak with Alan alone. I promise you, if he begins to need attention, I'll call for it immediately. Please...just trust me."

Eric sniffed again, looking from his beloved to this ancient being that both he and Alan had come to see as an uncle of sorts. He swallowed and looked at Alan, even now seeking his approval first, before leaving his side. "Will tha' be a'right wi ya, love?"

It took Alan a moment to gain enough air in his lungs to speak, "For…a short time only." He nodded. He gave a small smile when Eric gave a defeated nod and bent over to gingerly kiss his cheek before leaving and closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The brunet closed his eyes, taking the best deep breaths he could manage before speaking before Undertaker would, "I don't…want to die…" he started, turning his head to look at the elder, "…I know…this is selfish…to ask you after everything…you and Jase have gone through…but…please…do for me…what you did for him…" he coughed again.

Undertaker had been prepared to give a speech about how he was too young to die, how much he and Eric deserved a chance for a life together, and how Jase turned out more than all right. He wasn't expecting to be  _asked_  to do the very thing he'd come there to suggest, though. For a moment he just sat there on the edge of the bed with a finger poised in the air importantly, and he blinked through his bangs at the dying reaper.

"Goodness, that was much easier than I thought," he finally said after gathering his wits. He smiled at the young man, and he reached out to stroke his sweat-dampened bangs from his forehead. "I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing, my dear, but now I think that I am. I came here to propose just what you've just asked me for. The thing is...I can't save you from the Thorns. I can't stop them. You  _will_  die, but I  _can_  bring you back. Are you sure this is what you truly want, lad? I know what your spouse would say, but this isn't his choice. I'm done making that choice for others, too."

A weak nod answered with another ragged breath, "I know…it's a risk…which is why…don't tell Eric. Don't get his hopes up…only to possibly…lose me again. Let it be a surprise…if it does work…"

"It will," assured Chronus with all confidence. "You just need to be brave enough to face that abyss, first. I wish I could do this without the need for it, but the Thorns won't go away until they've run their course. Once that happens, I'll be free to bring you back."

He sighed. Poor little chap. Alan truly was a kind soul. He felt a burning behind his eyes and he hastily wiped them and forced another smile for him. "Be brave, Alan. I won't let you fall. You just have to be strong enough to come back with me when I bring you."

Alan nodded again, "I have faith in you." He closed his eyes, taking a long moment to breathe again. "I wouldn't ask you if I didn't… I just…I don't want to leave Eric…I'm not…ready. I may never be ready…"

The brunet took yet another breather before continuing, "I know…They will know what you did to me…I'll take the blame for it…"

"I think in your case, they might be willing to make an exception," reasoned Chronus. "Just maybe. Your colleagues have already proven themselves more resilient than I expected, when it comes to thinking outside the box. And to tell you truthfully, young Humphries, I might not have offered this if I hadn't nearly lost my life and Jase. I know what it's like to want to be with someone so badly, and to see it all slip away. After what you did for us, the least I can do for you is to give you this second chance."

He smiled again and he gave the younger reaper's head one more gentle pat, before straightening up again. "All the same, don't weaken and tell your mate. I won't lie to you; the success of this will depend as much on the strength of your soul's resolve as my skill. I'll leave you now, to spend your time with your husband. I'm rooting for you though, lil' friend."

"Thank you." Alan took another deep breath. If anyone would know just how much this meant to him, it'd be Undertaker and Jase. With his 'final' request out of the way, he was ready to curl up with his husband again. To hold his hand and keep him by his side until the end…but hopefully, the end would be short.

He had to laugh a little at himself. He was always telling Eric not to do anything stupid…yet here he had just requested the sort of thing Eric would have…

"Go and be with him," urged Chronus as he stepped out into the hall where Eric was waiting. "Hold his hand. Tell him how much you love him. Show him how much he means to you."

Eric blinked his tired eyes and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. The usual cornrows he kept it braided into on one side were coming unraveled, since he had no time to manage the upkeep of them.

"Why are ya tellin' me tae do something I'd already be doing, auld man?"

Undertaker gave him a pained little smile and patted his shoulder. "Because you shouldn't stop. He needs to know, until his last breath. Hold strong, lad. It's what he needs from you more than anything."

Eric swallowed and nodded, though he already knew as much. He wondered what the mortician could have possibly had to discuss with his dying lover, but he lacked the energy or heart to ask right now. "Thanks fer...comin' by, Chronus."

Undertaker retrieved his top-hat from the side table he'd placed it on, and he tipped the brim towards Eric after replacing it on his head. "Jase and I are available when you need us, chap."

With a heavy sigh, Eric watched him go and then he went back into the bedroom to be with his mate in his final hours.

* * *

 

The dark silence of the night was broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Death's aura was heavy in the master bedroom of Eric and Alan's home, and it was only growing heavier, suffocating the young reaper despite the respirator that he was hooked up to, in order to keep him breathing.

Weakly, and slowly, Alan rolled onto his side and gazed with sad, loving eyes at Eric's moonlit face. He reached forward, lightly touching his cheek. He could feel his life holding on by a thread. He could feel the last of it being torn away from him, he knew this was it.

"I hope…to see you again, soon…" he whispered, his throat tightening up, "I love you… Ngh!"

His hand gripped at the light fabric over his heart, familiar pain shooting through his chest. But he no longer had the strength to cry out. The monitors he was attached to began to beep and chirp louder in warning, growing faster along with his heart until finally, it stopped with a single on-going tone milliseconds after Alan let out his last ragged breath, fogging up the mask over his mouth and nose for a few seconds.

"Alan?" Eric got up and he leaned over his husband desperately. "Alan! Alan! N-no...please...don't go! Dun' leave me!"

He felt it, though. He felt the life leave him, and he bowed his unkempt blond head over his mate's still chest and sobbed raggedly.

* * *

 

Chronus awoke with a hitch of breath as the phone rang. He glanced down at his sleeping spouse and he stroked his back once, before easing out from beneath him to answer the call. He knew what it was about...he'd felt it in his dreams. The last, lingering remnant of those dreams involved Alan begging him not to forget his promise. He dreaded every footstep that took him down the newly constructed stairs and when he made it to the phone and heard the pain-filled, grief ravaged voice on the other end, he knew he needed to get ready.

"D-Death," said Eric's taut voice, referring to him once again by the only name he'd once gone by, "Gone. He's...gone."

He bowed his silver head and he nodded. "Hold tight, lad. Jase and I will be there soon."

* * *

 

For once, Jase didn't knock politely when they arrived at Eric and Alan's home, running on ahead of Chronus to the front door and letting himself in and racing straight to the master bed where Eric was holding Alan's body in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Eric…" The Frenchman pulled Eric into a comforting hug, fighting back his own tears.

The one thing that could provoke the Scotsman from letting go of his husband was the small Frenchman he and Alan had come to adore. He gently laid the brunet's lifeless body back down on the bed and he turned to hug Jase back, his powerful body shaking with exhaustion and pain.

Undertaker came in quietly behind his mate, and he paused at the sight of the grief in the room. Even now, such moments were sacred to him. Most people would never get to know how much they meant to the lives they'd touched, seeing as they tended not to witness the reactions to their death once they departed this life. The ancient sighed softly, quietly wishing he could spare Eric this grief...as well as Jase. His husband knew what he intended to try and that perhaps was the only thing keeping Jase from breaking down as well.

"Eric, lad," he said in his most soothing voice as he approached the bedside. "I've...come to collect him as requested."

In his ignorance, the Scotsman had agreed that Undertaker should be the one to prepare his love for his final rites. He lifted his head from Jase's shoulder and looked at the mortician with bloodshot, tearful eyes. He gave one brief, stiff nod; the only response he seemed capable of giving in his agony.

Taking a slow breath, Chronus approached the still form on the bed and rather than bring the stretcher in, he gathered him gently into his arms as if he were asleep. "Okay, my dear," he whispered to Alan's oblivious body, "time to come with me for a bit."

He carried him out with care. Thankfully, the medical staff had already removed all of the attached tubes and monitors from him. As his husband did his best to comfort his grieving spouse, Undertaker set Alan gently on the stretcher waiting for him in the living room and he covered him up.

"Come," Jase rubbed the Scotsman's back, "I'll make you some tea and stay with you tonight…" He knew what Chronus planned, and he knew what would happen if he failed to bring back the small Englishman. Either way, he wasn't emotionally comfortable enough to be with his husband during that time, and he felt he could do more good comforting Eric in his time of grief. He had been a priest, after all. He had sat for hours with grieving parents, children, husbands, wives…he had experience with helping the emotions left after death.

* * *

 

Muffled, indistinguishable sounds assaulted his ears, visions of red and moving shadows was all that met his gaze, and he was sure his eyes were closed. But he couldn't open them. Couldn't move. Confusion and fear gripped at him as he tried to move, tried understanding what was happening.

But he could feel. Wetness rolling down the sides of his face, a hard, cold surface beneath his bare body, his heart beating in his chest rapidly as if he'd just run a marathon, and his lungs slowly filling with air and then pushing it back out again.

His lips parted slightly as he tried to call out, but barely a sound escaped him.

"Easy, now," soothed Undertaker, standing over the awakening doll with a smile. "One thing at a time, love. Try wiggling your fingers and toes for a start, and then I'll help you sit up."

He gently stroked the revived reaper's brown hair, mindful not to pull it. Unfortunately there was no way around the slight scarring around the hairline from the surgical part of the procedure, but it would fade in time and be no more obvious than Jase's. Alan's funeral had been a week before, and not only had his fellow Dispatch agents attended, but most everyone from the other departments too. He was well-loved by his coworkers and associates, and the hardest thing about attending it had been to watch Eric's grief-ravaged face as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Then there was the task of sneaking back late at night to dig it back up, retrieve Alan's preserved body from it and bring it to the home he shared with Jase to begin his work in earnest.

Undertaker had been very careful; filling the hole back in with practiced efficiency so that there was no sign of tampering. He'd been even  _more_  careful with his procedure, using every skill he'd learned about producing sentient dolls to bring the young man back as whole as he possibly could.

"Do you recognize my voice?" he asked the newly risen doll. "And can you tell me your name?"

Yes…yes, he could recognize that voice. But it was not the voice he suddenly longed for. His beating heart feeling an ache as he realized he was missing something important—some _one_  important. One voice, one name, one face. One thought filled his senses painfully as if he'd been cut off from it in the most painful way possible. His very soul ached with need of the one Eric Slingby.

Where was he? Why wasn't it Eric's voice greeting him? Why wasn't it his gentle, loving touch? What had happened to them? All his thoughts and memories apart from Eric was foggy and hard to grasp.

He gasped audibly once more, and then, finally, he was able to speak his first word of his new life. "E-Eric..?"

"You'll see him soon enough, my dear," promised Undertaker. He dimmed the lights in the basement and he slipped his hands beneath Alan's bare shoulders to help him sit up. "Here, let's check your vision. Don't be alarmed; you're safe."

He carefully unwound the bandage around the brunet's head to reveal his eyes. "Open them slowly," he cautioned.

Alan sat unsteadily, his fingers twitching slightly as he sat, his eyes closed. As the last of the bandages fell away, he slowly began to open them. Thick brown lashes fluttering a few times in protest of the dim light. His once green-gold eyes had been transformed. What once had been a yellow-green lined in a dull golden color, was now a bright emerald green and gold with thin swirls of blue spiraling from tiny pupils.

His pale skin still showed the deep, discolored scarring of the thorns that had taken his reaper life; now as harmless as the Celtic tattoos upon his soul mate's body.

His swirled eyes slowly drifted about the dark spare room. The windows covered in thick drapes to block out the sunlight – assuming it was daylight hours. Medical tools lay on a tray along with a few bottles and jars of unrecognizable liquids. A white sheet was draped over his lower half, and a tall man with long silver hair swept back into a ponytail stood by his side.

It took Alan a moment, but he was able to recall who the man was, but not why he would be there. Wasn't he dying? Shouldn't he be in his own bed with Eric at his side and a doctor?

Undertaker smiled gently at him. "Well? How do you feel? Can you recall your name?"

"My name?" Alan had to take a moment before it came to him, "…Alan…Alan Mathew Humphries…" he raised a shaky hand to rub his eyes, but his fine motor skills had yet to sharpen and he ended up poking himself in the eye, causing him to yelp.

Undertaker chuckled, finding him almost as endearing as his Jase. "Careful there, Alan. It will take you a little while to regain full muscle control. Now, do you remember what we talked about the last time you saw me?"

He didn't want to traumatize the lad, but it was important that Alan exercise his memory. At least he seemed to recall his beloved Scotsman, which was a definite plus. Humphries was a smart reaper, and Chronus was confident that with a little rest and recovery, he would regain all of his memories and be as good as new.

Alan held his poked eye closed as it watered, thinking back and trying to remember a specific conversation with the legendary reaper. But he couldn't, and he shook his head, "I don't remember…I only remember…lying in bed, hooked up to medical equipment. I remember Eric holding my hand…" he looked down at said hand. It felt so empty all of a sudden.

His memories were harder and harder to remember the closer to his death he tried to remember.

"You had the Thorns of Death," explained the mortician softly. "You told me that you weren't ready to die, and you asked me to do for you what I did for Jase. You didn't want to leave your husband. Does any of that ring a bell for you?"

He began to examine him, checking his pulse first, and then passing his hand over his eyes to test his pupil responses.

"I remember having Thorns…" Alan agreed, letting the elder examine him, "I remember not wanting to die…but I don't remember asking you for anything." He studied the man's face, "…Does this mean I died?"

Undertaker looked at him, and he dearly hoped that confirmation of his question wouldn't stress him overly. He nodded slowly, keeping his gaze on Alan's. "I'm afraid so, chap... But I revived you as promised. There was no way to stop the Thorns from finishing their work, you see. Had to let them take you before they would go away, and I'm sorry to say I couldn't do anything for the marks they left behind."

He nodded at the faded marks in question, and then he smiled. "But they're gone now, and you can be with your husband again as you so desperately desired. As soon as I've finished examining you, we'll get you properly dressed and I'll arrange for Eric to come over. I think you ought to know, however, that he doesn't know I revived you. It's going to come as a bit of a shock to him."

Alan nodded stiffly, shivering. "I…died…that explains…the pain…" he muttered to himself. He had been cut away from his husband in the worst possible way. That empty pain in his heart throbbed at the realization.

"I have to see him…"

"You will, my dear," promised the Undertaker. "But first, we need to make sure everything is working as intended. It won't take terribly long, I assure you. Just try to be patient and soon, you'll be back in your Scotsman's embrace."

Alan looked down, gripping the sheet draped over his legs. "…He needs me more than I need him right now…He's felt this loss longer…It won't go away until we are together again…I can feel it. But I can't feel him. Just the loss of him." he paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath passed his lips, "How long will this take?"

"Not long," assured the mortician. "I just don't want to be too hasty and miss something important to your health. Just put up with it a while longer...for your own good."

He did his best to finish the examination quickly, and when he was satisfied that Alan was indeed restored and on his way to a full recovery, he fetched a lab jacket for him to cover up with temporarily and he helped him into it.

"Jase will be so happy to see you," he predicted as he helped Alan off the examination table and supported him. "Not too quickly now...your legs will be weak until your muscles recover."

He guided the smaller reaper toward the stairs leading up from the basement. "One step at a time, lad. That's it. We'll contact your spouse as soon as we get upstairs, and I'm sure Jase will be happy to find something more fitting to dress you in while I ring Eric up."

He called out for his husband as they made their way up the steps together, knowing Jase's hearing was sharp enough to detect his voice no matter what part of the house he happened to be in.

"Guess who's awake, darlin'," he said with a grin as he stepped out the door leading into the basement to find the Frenchman waiting there.

"Alan…" Tears welled up in Jase's eyes and he stepped forward, gently hugging the brunet, "Everyone's missed you terribly."

The sun was descending behind the horizon, and Jase had drawn the drapes to dim the house so that he could walk around without his blindfold, and so that Alan's eyes wouldn't burn when he came up from the basement. It was something he did every evening when Chronus went down to work on Alan or check on him.

After their brief reunion, Chronus parted from them to make the call to Eric, and Jase helped Alan up to the master bedroom where he helped Alan into a pair of his slacks and a shirt that he'd snuck out of Alan's drawers at his house, in case the procedure was a success. Jase then pulled out a lace blindfold, frowning as he handed it over to Alan.

"Trust me, you'll need this. It takes some getting used to, but it's better than the burning light."

"Thank you…" Alan took the scrap of lace and looked down at it, "I suppose I have a lot of changes to get used to…"

"Well, at least there's no angel fire." Jase smiled, "Being a doll isn't a bad life once you get used to it. I'll help as much as I can, and Eric will be there for you."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, but this isn't the end of the series! Xen and I are working on one last fic to the series called "La vie qui provient de la mort" Below in the end-note; I've put the basic info on the sequel as it stands now. Some of this may change. I also included a small exert from the first chapter. Please note that it is unedited and may have some mistakes in it, still. It's just a little something to catch your interest, maybe. :3

Eric arrived outside the cottage some ten minutes later, unsmiling as he walked up the steps to the porch, to be greeted by Chronus. "Evenin'," he greeted dully as the mortician smiled at him. The man smiled too much. It irked him. He couldn't fathom why anyone could smile so much—but then, he'd forgotten how to smile at  _all_  since losing the love of his life. "Mind tellin' me wha' was so important it couldnae wait 'till tomorrow, Undertaker?"

The mortician opened the door to the house. "Trust me, you'll find this more than worth it, my crabby Gaelic friend. Come along inside. There's someone waiting for you whom I think you'll be quite happy to see."

Eric gave him a frowning look. While he loved to visit Jase, not even the Frenchman could bring a smile to his face these days. "Yer actin' even stranger than usual, auld man."

Undertaker gestured at the open door. "Just go inside, chap. You'll see."

Now suspicious, Eric gave a shrug and stepped through the door. It was quite dim inside, but he was used to that, with Jase's eyes being so sensitive. He had to give his eyes a moment to adjust, and he saw not just one small male form sitting in the parlor, but two. He blinked in confusion as the taller of the two stood up abruptly, thinking that his eyes must be playing tricks on him. Sculpted features, brown hair, slim sweet frame and lips that he'd kissed about a thousand times. He could not see the eyes as they were covered with a blindfold like Jase's, but there was no mistaking that beloved face.

Eric's eyes widened behind the blue-tinted lenses of his glasses and he swallowed. " _Dia cabhair mi_ ," he muttered in his native tongue, unable to believe his eyes.

Alan didn't have glasses on, he didn't need them as they had been restored to the quality of vision he'd had as a human as he no longer had reaper eyes. It was probably a good thing, as Undertaker had giggled over the idea of what the former reaper would have looked like wearing glasses over a blindfold. And despite the slight hindrance to his vision created by the blindfold, Alan could see his lover clearly. His tall, muscular frame, his soft, golden waves of hair, his unkempt goatee which needed a trim as if he hadn't shaved in days, The glimpse of a tattoo circling his left bicep under the thin white shirt that seemed a little too tight, as if it had shrunk in the wash.

He wanted to run to him, but he knew he couldn't. He'd end up falling flat on his face if he tried. He'd had enough troubles with getting dressed, even with Jase's help. So, instead, he took one slow step forward, "Eric…"

The blond reaper took a step forward too, his own legs threatening to give out on him. "Alan? Is it...really you?"

But every fiber of his being screamed at him that it could be nobody else. He didn't understand at first, but then his brain re-connected as he took in the blindfold his love wore that was identical to the one covering Jase's eyes. Undertaker. He'd done it. He'd brought Alan back...and Eric didn't even care that he was no longer a reaper in the true sense of the word. Their bond had been severed by Alan's death, but the love was still there, and his heart pounded fiercely as he staggered closer.

"Alan...sweetheart," he choked, reaching out for him as his legs began to collapse, the strength leaving them.

"Eric—it's me, it's me." Alan reassured him, his throat tightening up and choking his words. Alan stepped into his arms and wrapping his own around the reaper, burying his face into his chest, "I'm here—I'm back…Thorns…Thorns are gone, Eric." He sobbed happily, his tears soaking into Eric's shrunken shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I had to go…"

Eric sank to his knees with him, arms wrapped tightly about him as he bowed his head over him. The strong frame that had held Alan comfortingly in his final weeks shook, slightly leaner from grief-induced malnourishment. "Ah, gods…I thought…thought we'd never see one ano'er again! Al…"

He choked up and just rocked him, feeling the slight frame of his beloved partner and spouse against his like some miracle born of a dream.

Undertaker smiled at the reunited couple, and he circled around them to put an arm around his own spouse. "You were right, darlin'," he murmured to Jase. "Seems sometimes even if I do the 'wrong thing', it's also the 'right thing'. Just look at that. I've never felt so lovely for doing badness, before."

Jase smiled and nodded, leaning against Undertaker's side, "Let's leave them alone to their reunion. They deserve their privacy, now."

Jase and Undertaker had prepared the guest bedroom for Eric and Alan to use that night, and Alan was aware of it, and had been told that it was recommended that they did stay. Both because it'd be late, and just in case something happened to him. He had just awoken, after all. Alan's energy would be limited for a while, just as his fine motor skills were shaky at best.

The Frenchman took his husband's hand and led him up the steps to the master bedroom, "You have been working hard for a long time, anyway. I think you have earned a good night's sleep…and cuddle time."

* * *

 

Down in the sitting room, Alan was sobbing into Eric's chest, apologizing to him and telling him he loved him, over and over again.

Eric regained enough of his wits to scoop him up and carry him to the sofa, and he held him close, his tear-streaked face rubbing against the brunet's as he reassured him. His accent was thicker than ever in the face of his emotions.

"Ya couldnae help it, Alan. I ne'er resented ya fer it. Shh, my heart…jus' sae happy tae have ya in my arms again. It's like I'm caught up in a wonderful dream."

"Except it's not a dream…" Alan tearfully cupped Eric's cheeks, "It's real, I'm real, this is all real… I…" he paused, "I had asked Legendary Death to do it. Asked him to save me, to bring me back to you—or at least try to. It wasn't a for sure thing that it'd work…I didn't want you to get your hopes up. I guess…I thought it'd be worse if you thought you'd have me back and it failed…you'd loose me twice…I'm so sorry you had to go through it like that…" He still didn't remember his death, or the few days leading up to it, but Undertaker had told him exactly what had happened in their conversation. And he felt a little guilty for choosing to exclude Eric in the plans.

"I wish ye'd told me," sighed Eric with a swallow, "but I cannae fault ya fer tryin' tae protect me, love. W-When I lost ya…when it was o'er…it was like dying. I wanted tae follow ya into tha' abyss…dinnae want tae go on."

He lowered his gaze and made an awful confession of his own. "Even thought of endin' it, but Ronnie caught me an' the lad blew a gasket." He grimaced. "An' then tha' lil' shite went an' told  _Spears_! Och, ya should have heard tha lecture I got."

"Remind me to thank him next time I see him…if I can see him…I-I'm not a Death God any longer…I'm a Bizarre Doll…like Jase. Chronus broke probation to bring me back to you…I don't want to see him punished for what I begged him to do."

Alan gave a shaky sigh and ran his hand down Eric's face and neck, over his shoulder and down his arm, "Oh, Rhea…you were worth it, Eric…to see you again, to touch you…"

Eric gazed back at him with love and longing. "Far as I'm concerned, Chronus did nae wrong. I won't let 'em punish him fer bringing ya back tae me…tae us. An' I dun' care if yer a Shinigami or a doll, sweetheart. Nobody worth their salt will, either. Tha world's a better place wi' ya in it, an' I'll testify on Undertaker's behalf, if I must."

Eric caught up Alan's questing hand in his, and he kissed it. He rested his forehead against his and he sighed. "Take tha vows wi' me again, when yer recovered enough. We're soulmates, Alan. Jase and Undertaker did it, so we can too."

Alan nodded, "The next full moon…" he dried the tears from the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, "I still remember the Reaper Tongue. I still remember the words of the vow. And this time…this time we know it's for eternity. Eric…" Alan's tear-streaked face broke into a smile as he leaned in, capturing his soul-mate's lips in his own with a hum.

Eric ran his fingers through his hair as he returned the kiss, and they caught on the blindfold. "Can I take this off tae look ya in the eyes for a moment, sweetheart?" he asked, his question whispering against Alan's lips. "I always loved yer eyes…those thick brown lashes an tha' deep, gentle gaze."

Alan bit his lip. He'd seen himself in a mirror and knew how they had changed. But the room was dim enough to go without, he'd been wearing the blindfold only to try to get used to it before he really needed it. He nodded, "It's dim enough."

Eric smiled tremulously and he began to loosen the blindfold with gentle fingers. He knew vaguely what to expect, since he'd seen what Jase's eyes looked like. He eased the veil off and he cupped his beloved's face as he gazed into his eyes. They were still Shinigami eyes in form, with the dual irises—but now they were swirled with blue. He didn't find it off-putting at all. In fact, he found it fascinating. He stared into them and his smile became more genuine.

"There ye are, sweetness."

Unable to help himself, he kissed Alan's cheeks one at a time. "I've missed this eye contact wi' ya. Nobody's ever looked sae deep in tae mah soul, an' that hasnae changed. Gods, I love ya."

"The change doesn't upset you?" Alan whispered, "My eyes…and the scar?" he parted his bangs, careful not to upset the stitches holding his forehead together.

Eric shook his head. "I'll kiss every one o' those scars tae prove it to ya, if I must. They'll fade o'er time like Jase's, anyway, an' yer still a cutie regardless." He traced a thumb over Alan's lashes as the brunet closed his eyes, smiling tenderly at him. "As fer the eyes, I think they're even prettier than before, wi' those blue swirls in 'em. Now they'll jus' make me melt twice as fast."

"Good," Alan slipped his arms around Eric and leaned against him again, "Because there is no going back." With a sigh, he closed his eyes and rested contently in Eric's protective arms, "We have been offered the guest room here for the night." He whispered, playing with the second open button on Eric's shirt. Then he gave a small laugh, "You were always a little helpless when it came to laundry…did any of your shirts survive these past weeks?"

Eric smirked. "The ones tha' Spears took pity on me an' laundered, aye." He imitated William's exasperated voice. "'Honestly, Slingby…you will have nothing fit to wear on the job, if this continues. Relinquish some of your work attire to me before you demolish all of them.'"

He laughed self-depreciatingly and he kissed Alan on the cheek. "I think tha man only came tae mah rescue 'cause he was too horrified at tha thought o' me representing our department in shrunken clothes."

"He won't have to worry about that any longer." Alan clumsily moved, straddling Eric so that he could face him directly while sitting in his lap, "I can take care of your laundry again. And your meals…have you been eating right?" he rested his forehead against his lover's.

Eric lowered his gaze and shrugged, rubbing Alan's back slowly. "Not sae much. Grell's been bringin' me food in tha evenings an' Ronnie drags me tae th' cafeteria at lunchtime, but I havenae had much of an appetite. I've only been eating 'cause they sit there an' watch 'till I've eaten at least half o' my meals. Pests."

"Pests…I would have made sure you ate more than that." Alan sighed, "I knew you'd suffer without me, but I wanted you to live on and take care of yourself, Eric. It's a good thing that those 'pests' of friends were looking out for you."

"Aye, but ye've got tae take into account tha' it's only been a lil' over a week since I lost ya, sweetheart. A man doesn't get over such a thing right away."

He stroked Alan's hair gently and he pulled back to gaze on him again, feasting his eyes on the sight of the reaper who had come to mean more to him than anything. His eyes stung and tears threatened again. "But now yer back, an' I'll gladly take all yer lectures."

"I'll save them all for later. There are more important things." He leaned in, intending to kiss Eric's lips, but missing in his aim, catching the side of his nose, instead.

Eric chuckled and cupped his chin to redirect his mouth to his lips. They must have called him just after Alan awoke, and he trusted that he would regain full control of his body again, with time. "So," he murmured against his lover's soft lips, "We've go' a guest room tae retire to, eh?"

Not that he expected sex right away with Alan still weak from awakening, but to lie down with him, caress his body, kiss it all over…aye, that would be a fine thing.

"Yes," Alan smiled, "Part of it is because Chronus wants to keep me close since I just woke up maybe an hour ago. …You were the first thing I remembered when I awoke. You were the only thing I wanted."

Eric found that cute…and very reassuring. Alan did have his belligerent moments and he could just imagine him demanding his husband as soon as he opened his eyes. He hugged him gently, before shifting him in his arms and lifting him up with him. "Wull I'm here now, an' I'm more than ready tae celebrate having ya back."

He kissed him tenderly before starting for the staircase, eager to lie with him and reacquaint himself with his sweet, slight form.

* * *

 

Eric had been in such a slump since he had lost Alan, that everyone worried about him, especially after Eric had been caught attempting to end himself. After that, Ronald had decided to check in on Eric regularly, and make sure Eric got to work on time.

The blond dragged himself out of bed early with William's help, and together they drove to Eric's house, using the spare key under the doormat to let themselves in.

"Eric?" Ronald knocked on the bedroom door, "Are you awake?" he waited for an answer that never came. "Eric?" he pushed open the door, frowning when he found the room empty. No sign of the depressed reaper. "Will, he's not in bed."

William joined him and he frowned, looking around for any clues that might lead to where he might have gone. Nothing appeared to be missing. The bed was un-made as usual, there were clothes scattered on the floor and a half-drunk bottle of beer on the dresser.

"Ronald, check the rest of the apartment," instructed William. "I will attempt to reach him on the phone."

The raven-haired supervisor retrieved his work phone from his blazer and he quick-dialed Eric's number. It was far too common for some agents to become suicidal over time, and after suffering such a loss, he silently worried he might lose another of his best agents.

* * *

 

Things were just getting heated with Alan to the point where clothing had started drifting to the floor, when Eric's work phone went off. He tried to ignore it, far too interested in tongue wrestling with his lover to pay it any mind. He hadn't intended to make love to him when he was still so weak, but Alan seemed more than all right with the prospect and he himself was already near bursting with need after spending hours talking in each other's arms.

"Ah, dammit," cursed the Scotsman under his breath as the phone continued to ring. "Sorry love. I'd better get this 'r they'll start lookin' fer me."

With a sigh, he reached for the phone he'd removed from his trousers and he smirked without surprise to see that it was Spears. He answered it and he put a finger to his lips in warning, silently warning Alan not to speak.

"Slingby."

"Where are you?"

Eric huffed softly. "Hullo tae ya too, boss. I'm visitin' some friends. Somethin' come up?"

"Nothing save your unannounced disappearance," answered William. Ronald's voice could be heard in the background, making an inquiry. "Yes Ronald, I've reached him and he sounds fine."

Eric grimaced and scratched his beard growth. "Sorry tae worry ya."

He looked at his husband with a frown, and he made a hesitant decision. "Will…maybe you an' Ronnie should come o'er too. I think there's somethin' ya may need tae see…but ye've got tae swear ta me now on everythin' tha' means anythin' tae ye tha' ya won't do anythin' rash. Can ya promise me tha'?"

The frown of suspicion could be heard in the supervisor's reply. "What in blazes are you talking about, Slingby? If you've self-harmed—"

"Nothin' like that," assured Eric, his eyes still on Alan's. "But it's important. I need tae know ye'll listen tae me before I tell ya where I'm at, though."

William grumbled. "I'm curious, yet wary. Very well, Eric; I solemnly swear that I will listen to whatever it is you have to say about…whatever  _this_  is about."

Eric compressed his lips, not yet fully satisfied. "Put Ronnie on tha phone."

With another sigh of annoyance, the supervisor handed the phone over to his betrothed.

"Eric?" Ronald's youthful and worried voice came across the connection, "Where the Bloody Hell are you? Don't you ever worry me like that again! I'm too young for this shit. I'm supposed to be the reckless one—not you!" he scolded.

"I'm no' being reckless," assured the Scotsman, his lips quirking with amusement. "Fer once. Jus' listen tae me, Ronnie. It's really important tae me. Ye've got tae promise me ye'll keep yer man from goin' by tha book when ya come here, follow me? Yer tha only one wi' tha influence tae make sure he keeps his promise tae me."

"...What did you do?" Ronald asked, "You're acting guilty of something-what did you do?"

"No' a damned thing," insisted Eric. "It wasnae me, but I cannae tell ya details right now. Jus' promise me, Ronnie. I'll ne'er ask ya fer ano'er favor again, if ye'll jus' do this fer me."

"I doubt that. But fine. I promise." Ron sighed, "Where are you?"

"I'm at Chronus and Jase's home," answered the Scotsman. "I guess we'll see ya soon. Dun' ferget yer promise tae me, kid."

"I won't!" Ron protested as he hung up, "He's with Death." he told his lover, holding the phone out to him.

William suddenly began to get a very bad feeling. "Could he have…but no…he swore never to…but I wonder…."

His dark, straight brows furrowed slightly as his troubled thoughts spilled from his lips, and he glanced at his betrothed and sighed. "I suppose we shall have our answer soon enough, then. Let us make haste and find out exactly what he is up to."

He created the portal to the Undertaker's home on the French countryside, and together they took it.

* * *

 

"I'd say you're a bloody idiot," remarked Chronus as he stood waiting on the lawn with Eric, "but they'd find out eventually, I suppose. You're taking a gamble though, my young friend. Much as I've gained a fondness for the man, dear William isn't one for bending the rules."

"He did it fer ya once," muttered Eric out the side of his mouth, "an' I believe he'll do it again. It's no' jus' about ya this time, either. Will was fond o' Alan, even though he didnae speak of it. I trust him tae do tha right thing by him."

"You haven't specified what that 'right thing' might be, chap," Undertaker pointed out.

"He won't allow Dispatch tae have him destroyed," insisted Eric, "an' wi' Ronald on our side, I think he'll come up wi' some way tae handle Dispatch."

The ancient turned his hat-bedecked head to his companion and he grinned. "What was that you said? I couldn't quite understand it."

"Go fook yerself, auld fart," grumbled Eric—but he grinned.

"Language, Mr. Slingby," chuckled Chronus. "Don't make me tell on you. Alan has already proposed the idea of a swear jar, you know. I could have you paying for every foul-mouthed thing you say if I tattle."

"Then I'd tattle on ya too," countered Eric. "I know Jase'd be quick tae jump on tha' idea himself an' yer no better than I am."

Undertaker made a show of frowning. "Those are fighting words, you know."

Eric smirked. "Jus' so ya know I'm no' completely helpless against yer wiles."

Moments later, a portal opened up, dropping the young blond and his lover off before closing behind them. Ronald crossed his arms, looking at Eric, "Now will you tell me what you did and why you disappeared? I was really worried about you, you know!"

Eric gave him a tense smile, his gaze flitting to the taller brunet at Ronald's side. "Sorry tae worry ya. It'll all make sense in a minute."

He glanced over his shoulder towards the house, nodding at it. "Why don't ye both come on inside, its better tae jus' show you than try tae explain."

William cast a suspicious look at the Undertaker before moving to follow Eric inside. The ancient filed in behind him with Ronald, and he recognized Jase sitting in the parlor with someone else that made his eyes widen briefly with the realization of who it was. Eric moved to join the male figure who was a bit taller than Jase but was still quite small compared to most of the other men present. Eric stood protectively over him, his stance daring anyone to lay so much as a finger on him as he stood up to greet them.

"Wait…" Ronald froze in the doorway, blocking William and Undertaker's paths into the room, "…Was I drinking? I think I'm seeing things, Will. I shouldn't work this morning…"

"You're not seeing things, Ronald." Alan said, leaning against Eric, a nervous look on his pale face. "I had asked Chronus to try bringing me back—please do not lecture him for breaking probation, William. It's my entire fault."

William stared at him for a moment, and then he turned to look at Undertaker. He huffed and adjusted his glasses. "I might have known."

That was about the extent of his ability to react to the situation. He'd suspected something after speaking with Eric, but he couldn't be certain he was right until now.

Eric watched his superior warily. "Please dun' punish Alan or Chronus fer this, boss. Ya know if it were Ronnie, ye'd want the same. I dinnae want tae be forced in tae hiding or turn criminal, but if it comes down tae my husband or protocol—"

"Calm down, Slingby," ordered William coolly. He summoned his clipboard and he began to write in it. "I have no intention of reporting this as a criminal incident…nor do I have any interest in jeopardizing Mr. Humphries' safety. What's done is done, and believe it or not, I  _do_  understand why Legendary Death chose to do this. It was not an action born of criminal mischief, but of…mercy."

He said the last as though he found the concept difficult to grasp, but some things in his heart had changed since falling in love with Ronald Knox, and of late he could identify with certain emotions that he'd never quite grasped before.

"Then what are you doing?" asked Chronus curiously.

William kept writing. "Being a great fool, apparently. I am attempting to rectify this matter in a way that will not result in anyone being pressed with criminal charges or taken into custody."

He then breathed the sigh that could be heard around the world.

"You big idiot, Senpai!" Ronald burst out after a long moment of silence. He walked over and swatted at his best friend, "Why the fuck did you put us all through such worry over you when Alan was just coming back? Was it all an act?" he scolded.

"Ronald." Alan slipped between the two blonds, "Eric didn't know. I only spoke to Death about it and asked him not to get Eric's hopes up in case it failed."

"Only the three of us knew." Jase agreed, "I would have told him, but it wasn't the same as when Chronus saved me. I never died…and Alan had to because of his illness. It was risky and took a long time."

"He's still an idiot! What if I hadn't caught him that one time? Alan'd be back only to have lost Eric! Big fat idiot!" Ronald huffed.

Eric took the punishment stoically, giving the smaller blond a sheepish grin. "Good thing I had ye lookin' o'er me, Ronnie. I guess I deserve yer anger."

"I'm curious as to what Mr. Spears is writing down in that clipboard of his," mused Undertaker, stroking his chin. "Want to share with us, chap?"

"I am writing a report that you examined Mr. Humphries body for forensic purposes upon his husband's request, after burial," explained William.

"So I'm a grave robber now," chuckled the mortician.

"Please allow me to finish, sir," admonished the supervisor.

Chronus nodded. "Go on, then."

"Thank you. As I was about to say; there must be a reason given for Humphries' records missing from the library and his return from the dead, so I am…improvising. About that, sir…how did you manage to retrieve those cinematic records to begin with?"

Undertaker shrugged. "Falsies. I kept the real cinematic records myself and gave Eric phony ones to turn in. Seeing as he was in no condition to collect them himself, I took the liberty to spare him the pain…and to fulfill my bargain with Alan."

"How…ingenious," murmured William. "So we need to formulate a reason for that which will not lead to any persecution. I could use whatever ideas you might have to assist with that."

"Hmm. How about this, then; I provided false records because I discovered he wasn't quite dead yet, and I thought I might be able to purge the Thorns but wasn't entirely sure…therefore allowed him to be presumed dead."

"It could work," agreed William, "yet there will be questions as to why he is no longer fit to return to duty."

Chronus shrugged again. "Hazard of the treatment. Just put in there that the procedure to do it required some meddling with his records and as a result, he lost his reaper abilities. Mayhap we could get him some shaded glasses to wear to disguise his eyes and shade them from the light. He's still got Shinigami irises after all, and it's not that obvious that they've got the swirls in them until seen up close."

He smiled at the resurrected brunet. "Alan could go on to lead a fairly normal life…just not as a Dispatch agent any longer."

William also looked at Alan, his stoic expression softening ever so slightly. "Is this an acceptable solution to you, Humphries?"

Alan nodded, "I only didn't want Chronus to be punished for granting me my dying request." He hesitated, "The glasses need not be prescription. I can see just well without them, so we may need to speak to Father Anderson about it."

"I believe that can be arranged," said William. "As I understand it, he and Death are old friends…isn't that so?"

Undertaker nodded. "Indeed. I think I could garnish a little favor from him if I'm allowed to speak with him."

"Then I shall see it done." William finished writing down his report, and he banished his clipboard. He looked at Alan and he hesitated for a moment, before offering his hand for him to shake. "Welcome back, Humphries. I believe I can safely say I speak for all of us when I say you were…quite missed."

"Thank you, sir." Alan reached out, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment as his aim to take William's hand was off, and his fingers tapped William's belly. "Uh…sorry, I'm still getting used to being in my body again, it seems… poked myself in the eye, earlier…" he admitted as he felt Eric help him get his hand to Wiliam's to shake.

"It gets easier with time." Jase reassured him, "You are already walking on your own faster than I was able to.

Eric smiled fondly down at his soul mate. "Yer doin' fine, sweetheart. Jus' give yerself a little time tae recover. Ya know I'll be right by yer side an' so will our friends."

He sighed, thinking of the bond he'd shared with Alan that was now missing, thanks to his death. He missed it…missed knowing what the smaller man was feeling without needing to be told. He'd gotten so used to that connection that he'd taken it for granted, and now that it was gone he felt the loss acutely. It was like missing a piece of himself; but his love was back and quite willing to renew that bond at the earliest convenience.

Quite by accident, William's mind went in that direction too. "What of your vows to one another, if I may be so bold as to ask?" He withdrew his hand from Alan's and he gazed between them. "The reaper bond can only be broken through death. Is it still intact?"

Eric grimaced a little. "No, but we plan tae renew them again when we can. I jus' hope I can remember th' right words."

"I can help you with that," offered Chronus. "It hasn't been so long since Jase and I spoke our own vows, compared to you. I still remember them clearly."

"Hmph, no' bad fer an auld guy," teased Eric with a smirk. "Thanks."

"Well, best of luck to you both on that," offered William solicitously. He checked his silver watch. "I think we'd best get going now, so that I can turn in my report and make arrangements with Father Anderson for Mr. Humphries' shaded glasses. Ronald, feel free to stay for a while if you like while I handle this."

He allowed himself a brief display of affection for his betrothed, reaching out to stroke his shoulder. He guessed the young blond would want to catch up with Alan for a bit, and there was no immediate need for him to return to the Shinigami realm at this time. He trusted him to take care of his daily reaping assignments without his prompting.

"Really? I can stay? Even though we are incredibly short-staffed?" Ronald asked, making sure he had heard his lover correctly. When William nodded, he did a little fist-pump of victory. "Looks like I'm chilling here with you four until my first collection at…" he pulled out his mobile and checked his list he'd been sent for the day, "…Sweet, it's not until five-o'seven!"

William couldn't quite avoid the little smile that curved his lips. "Well then, I should be off. Enjoy your visit. Good day to you, gentlemen."

He created a portal and he left them with one final nod of farewell.

"Well, this ought to be interesting," murmured the Undertaker once William was gone. "Think Dispatch is going to swallow the excuse we cooked up?"

Eric shrugged. "I'm no' too proud tae run if they don't. All tha' matters tae me is having mah husband back." He smiled at Alan and he kissed him on the cheek, before addressing the ancient again. His gaze went back to the mortician and he sobered. "I dinnae thank ya before, Chronus. This means more tae me than words can say."

Undertaker smiled and waved it off. "Think nothing of it, chap. I'm just glad I succeeded. Anyone care for a drink? Alcoholic or otherwise?"

"It's early morning, Chronus. Go for the non-alcoholic stuff for everyone." Jase said to Ronald's dismay.

"I'd offer to make breakfast, but it may not be safe for me to do so until I regain full control of myself." Alan smiled.

"You just curl up with Eric and relax." Jase suggested, "I'll help Chronus in the kitchen. You three are our guests, please make yourselves at home."

* * *

 

Three weeks passed, Eric and Alan staying with Chronus and Jase in their spare room while William worked the system and while Chronus monitored Alan's progression as he had for Jase. Only this time, it wasn't for the sake of research, but for Alan's health as a Bizarre Doll.

Lawrence Anderson had readily agreed to help, and, as an extra surprise to his old friend, he had sent two pairs of custom, tinted glasses. One for Alan, looking like Alan's old reaper glasses, only with darker, blue-tinted lenses to protect his eyes from the light. The second pair was for Jase. Simple, standard-issue frames with the same tinted lenses.

Anderson said that it was silly to have the poor boy walking around blindfolded every day when the problem could so easily be fixed with custom non-prescription lenses. They did let in a little more light than the blindfolds, but they provided enough protection from the harshness of the light.

Alan leaned against the windowsill, looking up as the full moon shown through the leaves of the tree a few feet away from the modest little cottage. Smiling, He spun around and hurried over to Eric, taking his hand and pulling him out of the chair he was sitting in, going over some of his paperwork from that day's workload.

"Eric, the moon is full tonight." He urged, tugging him towards the door with an excited eagerness that was reminiscent of his younger reaper days when Eric was his senior and mentor. The days when they had started falling in love with each other.

The Scotsman followed gamely, grinning as he was practically dragged out the door and under the tree. Just as eager to renew their vows and seal the soul-bond once more, he didn't protest a bit. He pulled Alan into his arms when they reached the trunk of the tree, lowering his mouth to his for a deep, passionate kiss that lasted until the smaller man's knees were weak. He broke the kiss and he stroked Alan's hair, gazing into his eyes. Seeing as it was nighttime, the brunet didn't require his protective glasses and he'd propped them on his head.

"Ready, sweetheart?" whispered Eric, his thumb brushing back and forth over his beloved's kiss-swollen bottom lip.

"Even more than the last time." Alan smiled. The first time he had been slightly nervous, but this time, he knew exactly what to expect—and it excited him. He took Eric's hands in his own and looked up into Eric's eyes, " _I swear by Heaven, Earth and all realms in between that you are my soul's mate, from this night forth,"_ Alan spoke the ancient tongue of Reaper-kind. Though he wasn't used to speaking it and no longer being of death himself, speaking the words caused him to grow a little dizzy. Swaying slightly as he struggled to hold on and complete his half of the vows,  _"May the full moon bear witness to this pledge. I devote myself to you, Eric Slingby, and I shall protect you, as I know you will protect me. I shall never betray you, as I know you will never betray me. My body, heart and spirit are one with yours. So say I, Alan Humphries_."

He felt a little sick to his stomach and he leaned against Eric, never breaking eye contact as he waited for Eric to speak the words back to him.

The taller man held him close to support him, and he spoke his part of the vows. It was much easier on him than it was on Alan, seeing as speaking the tongue of the Death Gods did not sicken or weaken him. They both knew it the moment the bond took place, and Eric gasped and hugged Alan tightly to him. His mouth immediately sought out his soul mate's, crushing against his in a deep kiss. He lifted him in his arms with joy and passion, and suddenly it made more sense to him that Chronus and Jase had decided to spend a few days in Paris when the full moon came around.

He'd been holding off on making love to Alan while he recovered, but that was going to change rather quickly. The arousal and need he felt as his companion's spirit bonded with his was far too strong to deny. Finally, they were back to the way they were meant to be.

"Alan," he murmured huskily between kisses, backing up toward the house with the brunet held tightly in his arms. "I hope ya dinnae mind, but I'm gonna ravish ya th' minute we get back inside."

"I'd say something was wrong with you if you didn't." Alan moaned. When the bond of the vow had been rekindled between them, the queasy feeling had been overwhelmed and snuffed out by the lustful need to connect physically with Eric again. He had longed for this side effect to take hold, and he wasn't about to let this evening pass without them both being satisfied over and over again. They needed it, and Alan found himself removing Eric's shirt before they reached the porch.

The Scotsman let his shirt fall to the ground, un-concerned with it. The tattoo of the Celtic cross on his right shoulder stretched slightly as he picked his spouse up again to carry him up the steps to the porch, muscles of his back bunching beneath a pair of matching, brown-gold Celtic dragons facing each other on either side of his spine. He shivered as Alan's fingers traced the tattoos, his lust intensified by the sensual touch. He had four tattoos in all; the knot work around his left bicep, the cross on his right shoulder and the two dragons on his back—which represented himself and Alan. He'd gotten the last one done after Alan's condition took a turn for the worst, stamping his skin permanently with a symbol of their everlasting love and devotion.

He barely got through the door without tripping himself up, and he closed it behind him with his foot, hardly noticing when it slammed. He set the brunet down on his feet and he grabbed hold of the t-shirt he'd brought from their apartment in the Shinigami realm. All of his husband's clothes were still there, since he couldn't bring himself to get rid of any of them. That was a fortunate thing too, because in his lust the Scotsman ripped the shirt open right down the middle, his tongue thrusting deep into his husband's mouth and a growl of desire vibrating in his throat. It was just a shirt, and he remembered exactly where Alan had bought it. He could purchase a new one for him later.

But Alan didn't mind in the least as his upper body was forcefully exposed.

"We should…try to…bed…first…" The brunet gasped, pressing his Thorns-scared body against Eric's as he slowly guided him back towards the hall where the spare room was that they had been staying in. His hands pushing Eric's pants down off his hips.

Eric gasped in relief as he was freed from the confines of his pants. His underwear was still a bit restrictive, but he could never quite manage to find slacks with enough give to allow much room once he got sexually aroused—which tended to happen a lot around his spouse. Alan was always quick to help him out of them when they started making out or at least unzip them to make him more comfortable, and he was grateful for that.

"Told ya I was gonna ravish ye tha minute we go' through th' door," he teased, but he didn't want to disrespect their hosts by shagging his love on the couch or some other surface outside the guest room. The bed sheets could be washed, but the upholstery on their new furniture could not be so easily cleaned.

He allowed his husband to guide him through the hallway, barely able to keep his hands off of him long enough to get through the door and shut it. Once inside, the sounds of their passion soon filled the air, and it was probably a good thing for both Jase and Alan's sense of modesty that their hosts were away for a couple of days.

* * *

  **-END-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for reading, we hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Part Three: La vie qui provient de la mort  
> (? Chapters)  
> Surprising the entire Dispatch, Undertaker rejoins their ranks. But so much had changed since his glory days working for them, so he needs to be retrained and learn the new technology. Undertaker's return takes some getting used to for both he and his husband, Jase, especially when the most unexpected thing happens to change their lives forever.
> 
> They took the lift to the tenth floor, and William directed them to the factory room where all of Father Anderson's special, custom spectacles were created. He gave the salt-and-pepper-haired elder a salute as Lawrence looked up from the latest pair he was finishing up with, and he set them aside. He shook hands with Undertaker, his mustache curving with his warm smile of greeting.
> 
> "And here I was doubting that they would rope you in again, old friend."
> 
> Chronus returned the smile and he put his hat back on, before clasping his other hand over the one he was shaking. "It seems I've gotten a bit bored after all this time in retirement, old chap. You haven't met my Jase yet, have you?" He nodded at his small husband with a proud look on his pale features. "You made him those lovely shades he's wearing. Jase, meet Lawrence Anderson…the fellow they fondly refer to as 'Father' or 'Pops'."
> 
> Lawrence released Undertaker's hand to offer his to Jase, looking the young man over with curious, friendly eyes. "Good to finally meet you, Mr. Dubois. You must have the patience of a saint, to put up with this fellow."
> 
> Taking the man's hand, Jase shook it, "Thank you for the glasses, they are very helpful for my sensitivity to light." He glanced at Undertaker, "I think even the saints would have difficulties putting up with my husband, though. Dispatch will have their hands full dealing with him all day."
> 
> "Harsh," complained Chronus with a laugh, "but truthful. He doesn't mince words, does he?"
> 
> Anderson chuckled lightly and released Jase's hand. "He would not long survive a relationship with you if it were otherwise, I'm afraid."
> 
> "True, true." Undertaker put an arm around his mate's slim shoulders for a brief hug. "Keeps me in line, the lil' fellow does. So, I hear you have a 'gift' for me?"
> 
> Lawrence nodded. I do, old friend…and I hope that you will like them."
> 
> "Them?" Chronus lifted his brows with interest.
> 
> Anderson held up a finger. "Just wait right there while I fetch something from my office. I'll return shortly."
> 
> Shrugging, Undertaker glanced at William. "Any idea what he's talking about?"
> 
> The brunet supervisor nodded once. "I do, but I would not want to spoil it, sir. Pardon me for being frank."
> 
> "Your name's William, not Frank," reminded the mortician with a grin. "But I get your meaning."
> 
> William sighed quietly, wondering how he would manage to deal with this man on his payroll. "Chronus, please do try and—"
> 
> "Here we are," said Lawrence, inadvertently interrupting the small lecture that William had been prepared to give the silver reaper. He came back out of the office door carrying a suit bag and a glasses case. He handed the latter over to Chronus with a quietly proud smile. "I still had your prescription on file, of course. I think you'll find these a bit familiar, old friend."
> 
> Undertaker frowned a bit as he opened the black case, and his eyes widened beneath the sweep of his bangs. He impulsively pushed said bangs aside to be sure he wasn't imagining things, incidentally knocking off his hat—which William was quick to retrieve and hold for him.
> 
> "Oh…m-my! They look exactly the same!" He pinched the familiar pair of glasses between his fingertips and he slipped them on with his eyes closed. "Jase, love…could you perhaps…step around in front of me? I'm almost afraid to look through these again. I want you to be the first thing I see."
> 
> Nodding, Jase moved around before his lover, "Alright."
> 
> Undertaker opened his eyes slowly, and the world around him came into dizzying focus. He saw his diminutive mate before him and he again combed his bangs out of his eyes to get a better look. He'd seen Jase clearly enough in their years together, when they'd come up close, but it was so strange to see the rest of the world around him so sharply.
> 
> He smiled almost hesitantly, and he reached out to touch the doll's face with a loving caress. "Can't say I've ever opened my eyes to a sweeter sight," he whispered.
> 
> Jase held Underaker's hand to his cheek and smiled, "This may take some getting used to."
> 
> "For you and me both," agreed the mortician with a smile. He looked at Lawrence. "And what's in the bag, eh? I s'pose it's not a body for me to embalm?"


End file.
